The Long Way 'Round
by Virgo Alien
Summary: Beca and Chloe are divorced, but the split was amicable so there was no reason they couldn't continue being friends. Things get complicated when Chloe makes an important decision, leaving each of them to wonder about the direction their lives are now taking. (Runs parallel to the canon universe; Beca ends up with Chloe at the end of PP1.)
1. Endings and Beginnings

**A/N:** Happy New Year! If you're following me (as an author on this site) because of my other story, _The Light That Brings Us Together_ , worry not—Season Three is still underway. It's just that I got this story stuck in my head and I needed to clear all the 'junk' from my mind trunk, so to speak, or else I'd burst.

This one is loosely based on the movie, _Celeste and Jesse Forever_ , but from the title I'm sure you can infer that this ends differently. It was originally meant to be a one-shot but my over-thinking mind is not so forgiving.

 **Reading guide 2017 Edit:** So rather than confuse you with those weird [x] boxes, I'll simply use solid lines to represent any time lapse within any time period, and I'll refer to the 'present' (which is, in reality, set at a future date) with a title announcing 'Present.' Hopefully this makes it smoother, but let me know if it hasn't. My last option would be to _italicize_ the past, but I don't know how I feel about a large chunk of text in italics, since a lot happens in the past.

* * *

 **Chapter One:**

 **Endings and Beginnings**

* * *

"Everyone please welcome my guests, the brilliant and talented—and beautiful—minds behind the breakout movie of the year, Pitch Perfect, Chloe Beale and Beca Mitchell!"

The studio audience stood and cheered to welcome the two women emerging from backstage and striding gracefully toward the sofa at the center of the slightly raised platform, lit by monstrous bright bulbs nestled in black umbrella-like soft-boxes. As they made their way, the woman on the left whispered something to her companion that made her smile widely and whisper back. They shared a giggle and exchanged a look, and even as they took their seats their eyes never disengaged from their shared mirth.

"Welcome!" the host greeted, looking playfully intrigued by their entrance. "What was that? What did Beca whisper in your ear?"

The host had directed the question at the redhead, but the guilty one quickly replied in a falsely innocent tone: "Nothing."

Chloe slapped Beca's thigh to stifle her giggling. "It's so nice to be back here. Thank you for having us!" she said, turning back to the host and hoping their earlier rudeness would be ignored.

"Well, I love having you guys here. Now," the host held up her hand to indicate the seriousness of her next words, "I do want to talk about the movie—it's lovely, it's hilarious—but I'd be a _terrible_ talk show host if I didn't poke and prod into your personal lives first."

The audience of mostly women immediately erupted into hoots and cheers. It was clear that this is what they had wished for when they lined up outside the studio, eager to be privileged with seats to this historic moment.

"Particularly," the host continued tantalizingly, "the biggest news of—I'll say, the _year_ maybe… the fact that the two of you were _secretly married_!"

Amid the audience's wild excitement, Chloe shook her head in defeat while Beca raised her arms in victory. "Woohoo!" she cheered.

"What's going on?" The host looked curiously between her guests.

"I made a bet with Chloe that you would bring up the marriage thing before commercial break," explained Beca. "She thought you'd have the decency to wait until after."

"Ah, so that was what all the whispering was about. Well, you should have known me better, Chloe! But now that we're into it… What the hell!"

Beca and Chloe exchanged understanding looks. They had prepared for this. "Well, it was actually not a secret," said Beca. "I mean, we don't hide the fact that we _were_ married. It's just that nobody knew—or cared, for that matter—until now."

"Yeah, if you look at some of the interviews we did really early in our careers, we might have mentioned it… although to be fair we never said we were married _to each other_ ," added Chloe, gesturing between herself and Beca. "It was only when we started doing this movie that everyone put two and two together and, well, apparently a lot more people care now."

"Of course they care! You each have built stellar, distinguished careers in only a few short years. You two seem like a match made in heaven," the host complimented. "But let me just clarify this, you two _aren't_ together anymore?"

Chloe shook her head, "Nope."

"Divorced for two years," said Beca, jokingly showing off the absence of a ring on her left hand.

The audience chorused their disappointment and so did the host. "I have to say, I agree with them," she said indignantly. "It's like finding out they stopped making your favourite flavor of ice cream... But—and I think this is why your fans are left confused—it seems like you two are really close nonetheless! What's the story here? Can you really say you've remained friends after the break-up?"

"I believe so. I mean, we _were_ friends before anything else. We met in college," said Chloe, taking the opportunity to get back on topic. "And, actually, a lot of _Pitch Perfect_ was based on our experiences that time."

"That's right, you both were in an actual a cappella group called the Barden Bellas that famously won the International Championship for Collegiate A Cappella for _three_ consecutive years, and the World Championships in 2015," the host read from a note card and applauded along with her audience afterward. "Very impressive."

"Thank you. And, honestly, our successes then, and the success of this movie, are all really thanks to Beca." Chloe turned to the woman beside her proudly. "I've said this a million times already so she must be getting tired of it," she smiled, "but we really couldn't have gotten this far—the Bellas and this movie—without her musical talent."

Beca rolled her eyes as a gesture of humility. "I am tired, because I really don't deserve that much credit. Everyone worked hard—the sets, the choreo, and all that were a collaborative effort." She paused thoughtfully. "Besides, none of this wouldn't even have started if _you_ hadn't… well, you know."

There was another exchange of glances, and the host prodded on carefully, knowing she was interrupting an inside joke. "So… did you two get together in college?"

Beca nodded. "We met when she was recruiting for the Bellas, actually. And it was obvious she wanted me the moment she laid eyes on me," she boasted in a lofty accent.

It was Chloe's turn to roll her eyes. "Yes, obviously, as evidenced by us dating almost a _year_ later," she said sarcastically.

" _And_ by the fact that we eloped only _three_ years later," Beca countered with a satisfied grin. "Fun fact: if we had waited a bit, it would have coincided with the Supreme Court ruling on marriage equality but, hell, we really couldn't wait— "

The host made a show of cleaning her ears. "Hang on, hang on—you two _eloped_?"

"Well, Chloe likes to call it that—"

"Yeah, sure, we ' _eloped_ ,'" Chloe cut in sarcastically, emphasizing the word with vicious air quotes. "I thought it was a pretty badass idea—which, you'd think DJ Beca would love—but then I found out that she called my parents to ask permission before we went to the courthouse." She turned to the audience in shocked betrayal when they reacted with endearment. "Don't ' _aww_ ' that! It made it significantly _less_ cool."

"Her idea of badass and mine are totally different," Beca defended herself to the host and audience. "Mine doesn't involve me getting killed by her dad."

The host laughed heartily. "Wow, this is so strange because I don't usually get to—I mean, when I interview celebrity couples, I can usually ask, 'how's the family? Or, how's the baby?' But now I have the unique opportunity to ask, 'how's it been since the divorce?'" The audience laughed again. "I mean, you've said that you're still close friends and I believe that but, if you don't mind indulging our wishful thinking, what was your married life like? Just a small glimpse? Please?"

After more goading from the audience, Beca and Chloe shared another look. At a time when anyone's history could be drudged up on the Internet, they had both always been very strict when it came to keeping publicized details of their private lives at a bare minimum. But they had expected this question. They knew it was just too good an opportunity for the host to miss, so they were thinking how to best distill five years of marriage into a PG-13 interview segment.

* * *

 **MAY 2015 - COPENHAGEN, DENMARK  
**

"Mmm… Beca," moaned Chloe, raking her hand through Beca's chocolate tresses as the woman sucked on a sensitive spot beneath her earlobe, "we—we should be celebrating with the Bellas... downstairs…"

"I prefer to have our own celebration tonight," Beca breathed huskily, leaning back just far enough to unbutton Chloe's vest hurriedly. "Besides, this might be our last chance to be able to do it in a swanky hotel room—"

"What are you talking about?" Chloe frowned as her waist was pushed against their bedroom door. "We had sex this morning."

Beca paused, on her knees while halfway through pulling Chloe's pants down hers. "We did?" she asked. Seeing Chloe cross her arms and raise an eyebrow dangerously, Beca quickly added, remembering, "That doesn't count! You didn't c—"

"Come on, you two!" came Fat Amy's thundering voice from the other side of the door. "Quit bonking and start bingeing—the first round's on me!"

Slightly breathless, Chloe looked down and put her hand on Beca's shoulder. "Come on, Becs," she said calmly. "Our friends flew all the way here to support us. The least we could do is celebrate with them."

"You're right," Beca sighed, placing a soft kiss on Chloe's thigh before rising. The treat she was forced to abandon made her heavy with regret, but to her enjoyment, Chloe proceeded to take her pants off completely. She walked over to their luggage for a change of clothes, adding a little sway to her hips that Beca knew was intentional and just for her.

"Stupid friends…"

* * *

 **JUNE 2015 - BARDEN UNIVERSITY CAMPUS HOUSING  
**

"Well, guys, this is it," Beca said ceremonially. She closed the door behind her and walked down the short steps and across the lawn to where Chloe was standing, already teary-eyed and sniffling into her sleeve. Beca wrapped an arm around Chloe's shoulders comfortingly and looked up at the elegant white house that had been their shared home for the past three years.

The Bellas had spent the past two days clearing out their belongings and making sure they were leaving their aca-headquarters spotless for the next generation of Bellas under Emily's leadership. It took them the full two days to finish, due to the sheer amount of reminiscing and crying that accompanied every discovery of some lost object or broken fixture.

"And I thought graduation was sad," sniffed Chloe, resting her head on Beca's shoulder. "I can't believe I'm not coming home to this anymore. To all you girls."

"Are you sure you guys don't want to stay over the summer?" asked Emily. "I mean, nobody's going to live in it until Aca-Initiations next semester anyway."

"Thanks for the offer, Legacy, but this is what has to happen," said Beca. "All of us leaving at the same time just feels right, you know?"

Emily nodded understandingly. They heard a commotion from behind them and turned around. Fat Amy and Cynthia Rose had brought out a small cooler of drinks from the van and Stacie began distributing cups.

"The blood of our sisters," the sexy soprano laughed, pouring a drink into Chloe's signature yellow cup. Chloe made a noise that sounded halfway between a sob and a chuckle and hugged Stacie tightly.

"A toast," Fat Amy began, once they had all gathered in a solemn half circle in the yard, holding full cups, "to leaving the Bellas House." She paused to let the moment sink in. They couldn't have timed it more perfectly; the golden hour had just begun, gracing their farewell in a sentimental light. "In itself, the House was just as much a Bella as we were: gorgeous on the outside and a fucked up mess on the inside." The girls laughed and nodded in general agreement. "Nah… it had its quirks, just like each of us do, that we all learned to love—"

"Like the ghost in the basement," said Beca, throwing Emily a warning look.

The youngest Bella gulped. "And the suspiciously creaky floorboards in the middle of the night," she whispered with a shudder.

"More like Beca and Chloe's bedsprings when they're trying out rough sex," Stacie revealed in an undertone, winking at a beet-red Beca. "You're welcome for the tips, by the way."

"And how about the fact that it's all white?" added Flo. Cynthia Rose frowned, realizing its lack of diversity for the first time.

They all paused while Lilly said something indistinguishable.

"To all the memories," capped Fat Amy. "And when it comes down to it… to the all the love we shared within these walls."

They all looked at each other. Chloe wasn't the only Bella sniffling anymore; even Beca had to roll her eyes upward to hold the tears back when it hit her that they were never going to have the pleasure of seeing each other every day, hearing about each other's problems, and spontaneously harmonizing over the most mundane household chores.

"Also, to all the shenanigans we've had in there—you ladies know what I'm talking about," winked Fat Amy, trying to clear the emotional air. "Anyway, I guess all I'm saying is… here's to more of it. We may be going our separate ways, living our separate lives, but let this house and our time here be our reminder to have more memories, more love, and _definitely_ more shenanigans."

"Hear, hear!"

"To more shenanigans!"

The Bellas raised their cups and drank.

Beca looked sideways at Chloe's tear-streaked face; the sunset had set her hair ablaze and her glittering tears brought out the eyes that Beca loved so much. "To more love," she promised Chloe softly, and then kissed her wet cheek.

* * *

 **\- SOMEWHERE IN ATLANTA, GA**

"Thanks again for the ride, Ames," Chloe said gratefully as Beca unloaded the last of their bags from the back of Fat Amy's van.

"Anything for you two love-monkeys," grinned Fat Amy. "Anyhoo, I better get back to my fiancé. His toes aren't going to make themselves curl."

Beca grimaced in disgust but Chloe chuckled and waved a pleasant good-bye to their wild Australian friend. Once the van had disappeared behind the corner with an obnoxious honk, Chloe wrapped her arms around Beca and kissed her from behind.

Beca leaned back into the embrace and grinned. "How much do you think the girls will flip out when they find out we got married this morning?"

Chloe pretended to think about it. "Hmm… I'm guessing not as much as they would if we told them we had to do it 'cause you got me pregnant."

"Ha-ha."

They managed to take their bags upstairs in only one trip. They had secretly been moving out of the Bella House little by little over the past week, leaving only their clothes so as not to arouse suspicion among the girls. In reality, they had already put in the first and last months' rent and even moved furniture into their new apartment two weeks earlier.

An hour passed, unpacking the last of their clothes and trying to make things cozier here and there, until Beca and Chloe were finally standing in the modest living room in their one-bedroom apartment.

"Not too shabby," Beca said, looking around at her first ever apartment. She couldn't deny that she was impressed with herself and her fearlessness, heading into the real world so soon and so ready, fresh from graduation. Though she had no doubt that most of the courage came from her wife.

"You're okay with this place, right?" Chloe asked her worriedly. "I know it's a little pricier than we planned but it's close to the studio so you can walk to work—"

"Chlo, this is perfect," assured Beca. "And you're right. It's close to work and the neighborhood's great. Besides, with my promotion and you starting work in the fall, we can more than afford this place. And soon enough," she wrapped her arms around Chloe's neck, "our careers are going to go off and we can move to a bigger place if you want to."

Chloe smiled and pressed her lips against her wife's. Beca felt the familiar, warm glow that seemed to gush out from Chloe's body whenever Beca talked about their future together. She knew Chloe loved it and, now that they were married, she undoubtedly loved it even more because now they were more than just sweet-talking; they were actually _planning the rest of their lives together_.

Beca pulled Chloe closer by the waist and deepened the kiss. She wanted to make a gesture, to show Chloe that this was real, that this was happening. And like clockwork, Chloe moaned at the passionate touch and gripped the front of Beca's shirt tightly in response.

"Let's go christen the bed."

* * *

The road to future success was more straightforward than Beca had expected. After impressing her boss by co-producing Emily's 'Flashlight' Beca had been duly promoted at Residual Heat to Assistant Engineer. The job wasn't glamorous—mostly setting up the recording equipment and assisting the engineer—and the pay was scarcely above minimum, but according to her boss it was the next ring on the ladder leading up to a career in actually producing music, so she wasn't complaining.

Chloe, on the other hand, had managed to get a job as a music teacher at a school in their district. Although her degree in Interdisciplinary Studies (the unsurprising result of her seven-year meandering at Barden) didn't technically qualify her to be an educator, her numerous accolades in the field of _a cappella_ seemed to be enough to teach elementary students. It wasn't a big money maker either but it helped pay the bills with enough to save, and working with kids made her extremely happy.

In fact, Beca and Chloe were very, and genuinely, happy together. Though they frequently missed the company of their Bella sisters, they also discovered the benefits of total privacy—both the sexual and non-sexual aspects of it. And even though Beca would spend the whole day hard at work at the studio and Chloe would keep equally busy doing after-school activities, they still came home with beaming faces and, sometimes, take-out from Taco Bell.

They were young, in love, and excited for their future.

* * *

 **PRESENT - WARNER BROTHERS STUDIO, BURBANK, CA  
**

"All I can say is… it was the happiest I can remember ever being in my life," Beca said sincerely. "I cherish those memories and I honestly wouldn't change a thing."

Chloe smiled at her and nodded. "I agree."

For a split second or two, the host looked between the two of them, her brows slightly cocked in disbelief or confusion, before catching her producer's eye for commercial break. "All right, fine, I'll let it go… for now," she added with a cheeky grin. "We can talk about your movie, finally, after the break. We'll be right back with Beca Mitchell and Chloe Beale."

While the crew honed in to reapply powder and adjust the lighting, the host leaned forward and said gently, "I'm sorry, I know you two like to keep private. "

"It's fine," assured Chloe. "We just don't want to fuel the fire, you know? It was, like Beca said, a really happy time for the both of us, but it's in the past. We've both continued with our lives since then and we don't want to lead people on to make the wrong assumptions, especially on the Internet."

The host nodded understandingly, and so did some of the women in the audience. "I totally understand. In fact, Beca," the host turned to the DJ, "you're dating Ada Goebel isn't that right? Her Instagram photos of your trip to Peru were _gorgeous_!"

Beca grinned appreciatively, pleased at the host for putting as much value in her new relationship as she did with her old one. "Yeah, Ada is quite the adventurer—and ridiculously spontaneous. It was actually her idea to go to Peru last minute; I just hopped into her car one day and off we were to LAX. She's a riot."

"And how long have you two been dating?"

"Seven months. Give or take a few days."

"That's wonderful. And how about you, Chloe? You know, the whole world is waiting to see who captures the affection of America's sweetheart next," the host winked.

"I don't know about the ' _whole_ ' world," laughed Chloe. "But unfortunately, I don't have the time to, uh… I've been working back to back projects the past year and a half, and relationships aren't really on my list of priorities—"

"Besides, even if there were a candidate," Beca cut in, "they'd have an incredibly tough screening process to go through. The Bellas are all still very protective of this one," she jerked a thumb in Chloe's direction, eliciting an exasperated groan from her.

"Unnecessarily so."

"That's really sweet," cooed the host. "But I guess _you_ would be protective, Beca, being the ex-wife and all."

"I'm not even the toughest barrier!" protested Beca. "It's Chloe's best friend, she's the killer. I don't think _I_ could've gotten as far as I did if she hadn't been away the entire time Chloe and I were dating."

"That's true, you _did_ have a lot of flaws," Chloe said teasingly. Beca pinched her playfully on the arm just as the producer announced the return from break.

"Four... three... two...!"

"We're back with the amazing and beautiful ladies of Pitch Perfect, Chloe Beale and Beca Mitchell" The audience applauded. "And I know I promised we would talk about the movie after the break, but let me just squeeze this one last thing—"

Beca and Chloe simultaneously gave her pointed looks of feigned annoyance.

"You see, folks, I'd been chatting with them over the break and, well, I've interviewed you both separately and you're each wonderful people, but this is the first time I've had you both on my couch since learning about your shared past, and I gotta say, married or not, you two look great together." The host had to raise her voice to be heard above the cheering. "You are so sweet to each other so I can see that you truly are good friends still—a great model for couples out there. I want to wish you both so much happiness and even more success in the years to come. And… as a present to you, I will stop talking about your past and just help you promote the hell out of your new movie."

Beca joined in the applause enthusiastically. Chloe laughed and thanked the host.

"Now, first, I want to show everyone a clip from the movie because I'm eager to know what was going on behind-the-scenes here..."

* * *

 **OCTOBER 2015 - NORTH SHORE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL, ATLANTA  
**

Walking arm-in-arm with her wife, Chloe walked into the auditorium that she had helped decorate the night before. There were quite a few people already there—faculty, staff, and students—enjoying the games or the food. She caught the eye of a woman waving her over and squeezed Beca gently to steer her in that direction.

"Beca, this is our school principal, Dr. Brown," introduced Chloe. "Dr. Brown, this is my wife, Beca Mitchell."

"Mitchell?" the principal asked curiously, shaking Beca's hand. "This might be a long shot but any relation to Dr. Warren Mitchell down at Barden University? You do quite resemble him."

Chloe gasped and Beca's eyes widened in alarm. Dr. Brown looked between the two of them and narrowed her eyes. "I take that as a yes," she said with a hint of a smile.

"He's my father," Beca said carefully.

"I see. I met him at a conference in Boston on the Asian Response to Colonization. He's very brilliant." Dr. Brown observed their shifty behavior closely. "I take it he doesn't know you and Miss Beale are married?"

"No, he doesn't," Chloe confessed hurriedly, unable to lie to a telemarketer, let alone her boss. "Not that we want to keep it a secret, but there's a time and place and we're not—"

Dr. Brown put up a gentle hand to stop Chloe's rambling. "Chloe, relax. I don't make it a point to meddle in my faculty's personal lives. Congratulations, you two, and, please, enjoy yourselves."

Chloe sighed in relief. She hadn't been working at the school long enough to have an opinion of her boss, but the woman seemed genuine enough with her words that Chloe trusted their secret was safe.

"Why did you introduce me to that woman?" Beca hissed once they were out of earshot. "That seemed detrimental to our life plan."

"I didn't know she knew your dad!" said Chloe defensively. "Jeez, the world of Comparative Literature must be microscopic… Oh, hey, there's Riley!" She gripped Beca's arm again and pointed to one of the tables on the far corner of the auditorium. "Now I know she's someone you'd like to meet, right?"

As a teacher, Chloe made sure not to have any favourites. She remembered her own experiences growing up and being overlooked by her teachers in favor of the more brilliant and more pleasing students; she wouldn't wish the rejection on any child. Yet she couldn't help spot a few remarkable ones and tell Beca all about them and what made them special. Not holding herself to the same principles as her wife's, however, Beca already had chosen a favorite, and that was Riley.

The couple walked over to where a young girl with shoulder length, dirty blonde hair was sitting alone, with headphones firmly clamped over her ears, and staring so intensely at the laptop in front of her that they could watch what she was watching through the reflection in her eyes.

Chloe bent over and lifted an ear pad off. "Not too close or you'll ruin your eyesight."

Riley perked up at the sound of her teacher's voice and twisted around, pushing the headphones down to rest around her neck. Her sapphire blue eyes shone with enthusiasm as she greeted them. "Hey, Miss Chloe! Happy Teacher's Day!"

"Thanks, Riley! I brought someone who's dying to meet you."

As if on cue, Beca stepped out from behind her, smiling. "Hey, Riley. I'm Beca."

Riley's jaw dropped excitedly. "You're Beca? As in, _the_ Beca? The creator of Miss Beale's epic mixes _Beca_?" she squeaked. "Dude, your beats are sick!"

Chloe threw her wife an amused look. She never dared tell Beca this, but it was uncanny how Beca chose to favour the one student that reminded her of both herself and her wife. on the outside, Riley seemed to have Chloe's bubbly persona and charming smile, but when it came to expressing her appreciation for music, her diction was all Beca.

"Yup, that's me. Chloe told me you were a fan."

"I love your music! Your mind is just—you have this way of—" Riley then realized her over-eagerness and shrank back, embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm rambling…"

Chloe's pedagogical instincts kicked in and she hastened to intervene but, to her surprise, Beca beat her to it. "Hey, don't sweat it," she said, taking the seat opposite Riley's. "I'm a little nervous, too. I'm a huge fan of yours."

Riley's insecurity was overcome by a look of incredulity. "Wait, what? Fan? Me? Why?"

"Chloe told me you play over _seven_ instruments!" Beca marveled. "That is beyond impressive."

Riley looked down humbly. "It's not that big of a deal. I mean, once you learn one, it gets easier to start learning the others," she said. Then, gathering courage, she looked up eagerly. "Um, actually, hearing your music from Miss Chloe inspired me to start learning the drums..."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Riley turned her laptop ninety degrees to share the screen with Beca. "I've been watching drum covers all day to visualize beats in a different way. Here…"

Chloe couldn't contain her grin as Riley spun the laptop around the whole way and moved to sit beside Beca so they could listen together side-by-side. She smiled as the two bobbed their heads to the beat, wearing identical expressions—brows furrowed and lips pursed in concentration. The part of Chloe that relished in the idea that Riley seemed to be the perfect mix between her and Beca lurched in earnest at the sight.

* * *

"Today was fun," Beca mused, intertwining her fingers with Chloe's as they strolled down the park on their way home hours later. "Well worth taking the day off from work."

"Really? I couldn't tell 'cause you spent the entire day with Riley," Chloe said with a pout. "To be honest, I didn't think you'd enjoy a whole day hanging out with a bunch of kids."

Beca laughed. "I do better around kids than most adults actually…"

"Is that 'cause you're closer to them in height than you are with most adults?"

"Hey, you married all this," Beca gestured up and down her body, "so you don't get to complain." They laughed. "Besides, Riley's a great kid. It doesn't take that much effort to like her."

"She is great. And she really looks up to you," Chloe said with a sideways grin at her wife.

Beca returned the grin with a glint in her eye. "Huh. So she's smart, too" A pause. "I can... totally see our kid turning out just like her."

Chloe slowed her pace, her heartbeat accelerating wildly. She was unsure if the words really meant what she thought—she hoped—they meant, since they were coming out of Beca's mouth and not hers.

"You… you think about our kid often?" she asked, trying her best to act nonchalant though she was certain Beca could feel her pulse racing from their clasped hands.

Beca shrugged coyly. "Maybe? Of course, I don't mean now. We're not ready." Chloe quickly nodded in agreement, careful not to scare the idea away. "But… it's definitely something I want to start being ready for."

Chloe bit her lip to suppress her joy. She knew it was a big step for Beca—for anyone, even—just to admit that they wanted, or at least were ready for, _that,_ and she didn't want to put pressure on her by letting her know just how happy it made her. So Chloe simply nodded and said, "Good to know."

Meanwhile, her stomach had suddenly become a haven for butterflies.

* * *

 **PRESENT - WARNER BROTHERS STUDIO, BURBANK, CA  
**

"… Chloe? Chloe?"

Chloe felt her shoulder being shaken lightly. Her eyes focused on Beca's half-amused, half-concerned ones. Around her, the studio was unusually silent. Chloe realized that she must have spaced out during the interview and had ignored the host's last question.

Chloe cleared her throat, blushing. "I'm so sorry. Oh my gosh. I totally went somewhere else."

The audience laughed good-naturedly but Beca and the host leaned closer to Chloe, noticing how pale and shaken up she looked.

"Are you okay?" Beca asked her quietly, looking even more concerned when she released a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Do you want some water?"

Unsure how to diffuse the tension, Chloe simply nodded. The host had one of the production assistants get her guests glasses of water while the producer called for an impromptu break and the band played dance music to fill the silence. Chloe was suddenly thankful they weren't live on the air.

"I'm really sorry," she apologized profusely. "I get nervous in front of crowds…"

Beca knew her long enough to know that she was lying, but Chloe hoped that she wouldn't call her out on it. The host might have caught a whiff of it, too, since Chloe was by profession a performer and had been on her show twice before, but thankfully neither of them challenged her excuse.

As Chloe took a long sip she caught the eye of her publicist, who raised his arms as if to say, "What are you doing?" before tapping the face of his thousand-dollar watch impatiently. She nodded at him and pulled herself together.

The rest of the taping went on without a hitch (at least to its host and audience) with Chloe back to her bubbly self and sharing hilarious experiences on the set of the movie. Beca was right by her side, laughing along and sharing her own musical experiences, but moments later, as Chloe expected, she was knocking on Chloe's dressing room door.

... And having it opened roughly by an angry man with perfectly slicked-back, dirty blonde hair. The man's sour face brightened instantly at the sight of her and he plastered on a fake smile. "Beca Mitchell!" he greeted, almost yelling. "Huge fan. Pleased to meet you."

After having her hand crushed and shaken, Beca raised an eyebrow. "I'm here for Chloe?" They had agreed to leave the studio together, after thanking the host and mingling with the audience and the crew backstage for a while.

The man's fake smile faltered a bit. "She's in the bathroom." He stepped aside to let Beca in. "By the way, Miss Mitchell, if you're interested in having more joint interviews with my clie—with Chloe, please don't hesitate to have your people contact me."

Beca resisted rolling her eyes and accepted the man's card without even glancing at it. Saving her from a response, Chloe emerged from the bathroom wearing a cozy sweatshirt and acid washed jeans, running a hand through her now loose hair.

"You changed?" the man said instantly the moment Chloe stepped out.

"Yes, Dalton, I changed," Chloe answered in a slightly annoyed tone. She plopping on a beanie to the top of her head and checked her reflection in the mirror. "I'm going home, there's no need to be all glammed up."

"You ready to go?" Beca asked before the man apparently named Dalton could interrupt.

"You're going _with_ Beca?" Dalton asked, surprised, and then he snapped his fingers excitedly. "That's great! Okay! I have a couple of meetings to go through before I end the day so I'll leave you two alone—Chloe, stay on your cell, okay? Okay."

Beca waited until the clacking of Dalton's leather shoes disappeared into the hallway before rounding on Chloe. "Please don't tell me he's your new publicist," she begged. When Chloe threw her an apologetic shrug over her shoulder while fixing her bag, Beca groaned. "What happened to Macy? She was great. Her mint chip cookies were to die for."

"She's on her maternity leave," informed Chloe, as they made their way to the studio's parking lot. "They assigned me this new guy. Apparently he was their best intern. He's like a social media expert or something."

Beca snorted. "There is no such thing. Just another way millennials want to make themselves special."

"You're saying that as though you're not a millennial," smirked Chloe.

"Hey!" Beca wagged a finger at her in warning. "I told you I hate being grouped together with them."

"I'm sure a lot of them feel the same way."

Beca frowned thoughtfully, wondering if Chloe meant that as 'I'm sure a lot of them hate being grouped together with millennials, too,' or as 'I'm sure they'd hate being grouped together with _you_ , too.' She fished for her keys and decided that it could go either way.

Once they were safely buckled in Beca's car, cruising at a decent speed outside the Warner Brothers studio, Beca sensed that Chloe was gearing up to reveal something. Chloe normally wasn't this pensive, so it didn't surprise her when she said, slowly and deliberately, "I need to tell you something."

She turned to face Chloe quickly before turning back to the road. To her relief, Chloe's expressin looked more awkward and nervous than scared or afraid. "Is this related to why you spaced out awhile ago?"

"Um, not really… At least, I don't think so? Or maybe it is…"

Beca frowned at the uncertain inflection. Usually Chloe was more forthright with her announcements. "Chloe, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Chloe was quick to reassure. "It's just… I want to have a baby."

* * *

 **A/N 2017 Edit:** I realize that 2017 is almost done and that, realistically, it will be 2018 by the time I update with a new chapter, but I just want to thank everyone who follows or has read this story. I'll admit that it's the hardest to write out of all my stories, so please bear with the long delays. Hope you guys had a decent 2017! Here's to a better 2018.


	2. Life Postponed

**Chapter Two:**

 **Life Postponed**

* * *

 **APRIL 2016 - ATLANTA, GEORGIA  
**

"I want to have a baby."

Beca lifted her head off of Chloe's naked torso and gave her a quizzical look. "Okay, we can go again but I don't think it'll happen no matter how many times we try."

Chloe slapped Beca's thigh and sat up against the headboard. "You know what I mean," she chastised. "I think we're ready."

Beca propped herself up on one elbow and looked into Chloe's eyes. "You do?"

"Yeah," Chloe answered, running her fingers along the curve of Beca's hip.

Beca hummed, both in consideration and in pleasure at the touch. "Well, our friends and family already know we're married thanks to your blunder—"

"How was I supposed to know Dr. Brown would upload those Christmas photos?" Chloe defended fervently. "Let alone that she was Facebook friends with your dad."

"—putting aside whether or not it was your fault, which it was…" Beca made a show of thinking hard about Chloe's suggestion but in lieu of actually getting to an answer, she crawled on top of Chloe and connected their lips instead.

Chloe responded by lifting her arms onto Beca's back, pulling her closer, and digging her fingernails into her skin. Beca smirked into the kiss, relishing how easily she could get Chloe all riled up. Being able to do it to someone as attractive as her wife always gave Beca an immeasurable ego boost, which only improved her performance in the bedroom. Grinding her hips down in a perfected arc, Beca elicited a languid moan from the redhead and took the opportunity to slide her tongue down her wife's mouth.

Just before Chloe's eyes rolled back in bliss, however, Beca pulled away. "That was me saying 'yes' by the way, was that clear?"

"Yes!" growled Chloe, frustrated by the deliberate interruption. "Beca, _please_ —!"

Despite being turned on by the whimper in Chloe's voice, Beca chose not to tease her any further. She left a trail of wet kisses beginning at the dip in Chloe's adorably freckled collarbone, down between her breasts, until she was resting at the perfect spot for sending her wife into oblivion.

* * *

"Chlo, come on, they'll be here soon!"

Chloe was sitting at the small breakfast bar in their kitchen, eating a bowl of oatmeal, stark naked, with a laptop in front of her. "Did you know that it's actually _not_ that easy to get pregnant?" she exclaimed in surprise, reading from a website on fertility. "Even for a healthy couple there's only, like, a one in five chance of conception every time you have unprotected sex."

Beca walked into the kitchen in a fluffy bathrobe. "Really puts perspective on those who get pregnant by accident," she said dryly.

"I know, right?"

"Chloe, come on! I know you're confident about all that but I don't want my dad to walk in here and think we've turned into nudists or something."

"Okay, okay!" Chloe quickly placed her bowl in the sink before pattering over to Beca. "You're eager to get ready."

"It's not the getting ready I'm excited about, it's showering with my wet, naked wife," Beca clarified, enjoying the view as Chloe led the way to the bathroom.

An hour of fun but mismanaged time later, the doorbell rang and Beca hurriedly began pulling on her clothes to greet their guests.

"Are we early?" asked Dr. Mitchell, taking note of Beca's hair dripping all over the hallway's carpeted floor.

"Not at all. Hi, Dad. Hi, Sheila. Come on in, Chloe's just, uh, getting ready."

Sheila raised her eyebrows knowingly and smiled. "Take your time. We'll help set the table."

"Thanks," Beca said gratefully, and then quickly retreated back into their bedroom.

"Is it them?" Chloe asked, turning away from the mirror where she was brushing her hair while simultaneously trying to put on a dress.

"No, it was the producers of The Purge, offering to give me an hour and a half of my life back—of course it was them!" Beca spat out rapidly, joining Chloe in front of the mirror and plugging in the hair dryer.

"I knew you shouldn't have gone down on me in the shower," Chloe reprimanded her with a harmless glare at Beca's reflection, feeling safe in the knowledge that the sound of the hair dryer made sure they wouldn't be overheard.

Beca scoffed. "I didn't hear you asking me to stop."

"No, but I asked you to go faster."

"I thought you meant it for _that_ reason!"

Chloe laughed. She checked herself in the mirror one last time, planted a kiss on Beca's cheek, and said, "Come on, we're making them wait too long."

Beca soon followed, walking in on her wife and Sheila taking the food from the kitchen to the dining table. She turned and noticed that her father was still sitting at the breakfast counter, staring into space with a soft smile on his lips.

"Dad? What's up?"

Dr. Mitchell looked up and widened his grin upon seeing his daughter. "Are you two... thinking of having a baby?"

Chloe's and Sheila's heads whipped around in surprise. Beca looked between her dad and the no-longer-asleep laptop on the counter. "Did you—?" she began with a slightly angry frown.

"I swear it was an accident," Dr. Mitchell said quickly. "I hit a key as I lay the food down and I saw… But Beca," he said gently, "this is so great! I'm so happy for you two!"

When Chloe confirmed the news with a sheepish nod, Sheila hugged and congratulated her as well. Beca's annoyance at her father's accidental invasion of privacy quickly dissipated when she read the proud and excited expression on his face as he hugged her. Then they all sat down to have lunch.

"So when did you decide to look into conceiving?" Dr. Mitchell asked once everyone's plates were full and glasses filled. "I'm guessing pretty recently if you're only doing your research now."

"Just last night actually," revealed Beca. "We both agreed that we were ready."

"And we're both really excited," Chloe added happily.

Sheila smiled and lifted her fork warningly. "Not to rain on your parade, girls, but getting pregnant isn't as easy as it looks—"

"We know," Chloe cut in eagerly. "At least, that's what all the websites say."

"Right, so you know that artificial insemination will likely take more than one try. And there are a bunch of tests to undergo, fertility drugs to take, not to mention the donor process—that is, if you're planning to go to a sperm bank—"

"And that's just the _getting_ pregnant," said Dr. Mitchell.

"He's right," nodded Sheila. "Once you're pregnant, there's prenatal care—"

"And the birthing costs, if you plan to deliver at a hospital—"

"And whoever _will_ deliver might have to take time off work—"

"Guys, stop. I'm overwhelmed by your support," Beca said sarcastically. Her own excitement had gotten lower and lower with every bullet point laid out to them.

The older couple looked at each other guiltily. Then Sheila said, "Beca, Chloe, we love you both so much, and of course we're happy and excited that you're looking to start a family... We just want you to be sure you're really ready."

"Not just emotionally, but financially," said Dr. Mitchell. "Of course we'd be more than happy to help you out but, trust me, it's a great weight off your shoulders to not have to worry about money when raising your kid."

"And it's not that we don't think you have decent jobs," Sheila added quickly. "I mean, look how well you've done just out of college! But money _is_ going to be an issue no matter what, and it's better to be safe than sorry these days."

Beca and Chloe exchanged looks. They hadn't really considered the future monetary cost of having a baby, let alone the cost of getting pregnant. The question of whether they were ready had only ever applied to how they felt about the commitment and responsibility of raising a child together.

Beca reached under the table for Chloe's hand a squeezed it. "Thanks for your input, guys. Chloe and I will think about it."

"I'm sorry we brought it up," Sheila said remorsefully. "I hope we didn't spoil it for you."

"No, no, we honestly appreciate what you said," assured Chloe. "We… really didn't think about all the other stuff, I guess."

* * *

Beca finished loading the dishwasher and straightened up. Chloe was by the dining table gathering the napkins, her unfocused eyes revealing that the depth of her thought. Beca snuck up behind her and wrapped her in a hug. She didn't have to say or ask anything; she just buried her face in Chloe's hair and waited for her to decide what to say.

Chloe sighed, leaning back into Beca's embrace. "There were so many things we had to think about that didn't even cross our minds when we said we're ready," she said with a small chuckle.

"So what do you think we should do?" Beca mumbled against Chloe's neck.

"Easy." Chloe twisted around in Beca's arms with a determined look on her face. "We're going to start saving like hell. Open up one of those joint savings accounts or whatever, and cut back on stuff. We don't need phones, right?" She jokingly threw hers onto the couch. "And I can get a second job over the summer—"

Beca could already see her wife overthinking and overworking herself. "Chloe, you don't—"

"No, I want to!" she insisted, second-guessing what Beca was going to say. "I totally agree with what your dad and Sheila said. I want our kid to be healthy and happy, and I want us to live in a house with a yard and have time to spend with our baby after work, not juggling two jobs and—"

"I was going to say you don't have to do it all by yourself," Beca said loudly over her wife's hyper-rationalizing. "Everything you said… that picture of how our family will be... It's perfect. I want that. I want it all with you—heck, that's why I married you, dummy!"

Chloe laughed. She put her arms around Beca's neck and squeezed gratefully.

"What I'm trying to say is," Beca continued, "I love you. I'll do whatever it takes for us to have this baby the way you want to. _And_ we'll do this together. You and me."

* * *

 **PRESENT - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA**

The car behind them honked, snapping Beca's focus back onto the road in front of them. She lifted her foot off the brake pedal slowly and continued driving down the road normally albeit a little disoriented.

Chloe broke the ensuing silence with a light chuckle. "That was a better reaction than I expected, to be honest. I thought you'd drive us into a wall."

"Hah…" Beca stopped to let some pedestrians cross. "So... a baby, huh? That's—that's great, Chlo! You mean like adopt?"

"I thought about it," Chloe said slowly, "but I think I want to carry."

"So, um…"

Chloe answered the unasked question. "Artificial insemination using donated sperm, yeah."

"Right. Have you talked to anyone about this? How long have you been thinking of having a baby?"

"The past couple of months, I guess? Well, you know I've always wanted to…" Chloe said in a soft voice and Beca nodded just as softly. "But I've been thinking about it more and more as Macy went through her pregnancy. I mentioned the idea to her _in passing_ but I didn't expect her to take it seriously enough to transition over to Dalton…"

"Wait, that hipster idiot knew before I did?" asked Beca, a little hurt. Even after the divorce they had always kept each other updated on personal things before their agents or publicists.

"It's not like I wanted him to find out!" Chloe said indignantly. "I wasn't serious when I told Macy but I finally was when Dalton came and he just jumped on the idea. And that's why I wanted this alone time with you. He wanted me to announce it on the show but I wanted to tell you privately."

Beca's scowl reflected her decreasing opinion of Chloe's new publicist. "You should fire that asshole."

"I will eventually," Chloe sighed in admission. "But right now I'm more concerned about what you think."

Beca quickly glanced at her before turning back to the road. "Of course I support this, Chlo. I'm happy for you." She paused to swallow. "And I'm sorry. I'll always be sorry, for what happened…"

Chloe shook her head. "And I'll always keep telling you it wasn't your fault. I never blamed you. Not once. Okay?"

Beca noted the firmness in Chloe's tone and instantly felt bad for turning what should have been a happy moment into a melancholic one. "You're right, I'm sorry," she said hurriedly. "This is great news! Have you talked to Dr. Chaudry about it?"

"I set an appointment with her this Thursday," replied Chloe, looking relieved and pleased by Beca's interest. "I haven't told her anything specific but I'm hoping to get an idea of my first steps."

"That's great." Beca bobbed her head. "And, uh, how about all the donor stuff?"

"I haven't really thought about it yet. But of course I'd like someone nice, who likes music, and is smart…"

"You know, you could ask one of our friends," said Beca, pulling the steering wheel to the left. "I heard people do that. You could ask Jesse," she added as a half-joke.

"Are you kidding?" Chloe laughed. "Can you imagine Aubrey's reaction if I ask for her boyfriend's sperm? Nah, I think it's better if the father was anonymous, you know? Less drama down the road."

"That's true," agreed Beca, pulling into the driveway of Chloe's apartment building. "Well, here we are. Home sweet home."

Chloe looked up at the building and seemed to want to say something. But in the end, she only smiled. "Thanks for the ride," she said, releasing her seatbelt.

"Anytime. And congrats," said Beca. She leaned over to give Chloe a hug and a quick kiss on her temple. "Love you. See you on Friday."

"Love you!"

Beca glanced up at the rearview mirror to watch Chloe waving goodbye.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Beca pulled into her reserved parking spot in a lot across town and put her sunglasses on before stepping out into the afternoon sun. She walked briskly toward the building and only slowed her pace once she got to the elevators.

The metal doors opened seconds later to the executive floor, and the receptionist immediately informed Beca of an unscheduled visitor in her office. "He said he knows you personally and that he wanted it to be a surprise," she said uncertainly.

Beca frowned and continued down the short hallway to her office. She couldn't see the visitor through the frosted glass, so the face only became recognizable once she pulled the door open.

"Don?"

The tall, dark-haired man opened his arms widely when she entered the room. "And there she is!"

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a neutral tone. She hadn't seen the self-proclaimed 'fast-talking opportunist with a golden heart' in over two years. The wavy hair around his temples was starting to grey but he looked no less intimidating than he did on the day she met him.

"Oh, sorry, I guess I have to schedule an appointment if I want to see you nowadays," he said jokingly. "Do you have time to chat with an old friend?"

"I wouldn't call you a friend, though," remarked Beca, passing him on the way to her desk. "More like a former colleague."

"Ouch." Don clutched his chest dramatically. "I'd like to think I was the fisherman that brought the small fish out into the big pond."

Beca raised her eyebrow, not bothering to look up from the production notes on her desk. "Not to sound ungrateful but you were just doing your job, Don."

"Yeah, but I took a huge risk picking you out from the literally hundreds of other talent out there, y'know."

"And I took a huge risk accepting your offer. But I earned my successes and continue to earn it long after, and it paid off for the both of us so…" Beca left the sentence hanging coldly.

"Jeez, Beca, I was only kidding," said Don, sobered. "You know I always thought you had great potential. I knew it the night I listened to all your music—everything you ever posted online—and I knew it the moment we met in person." When Beca still didn't say anything, he retreated. "I'm sorry, I obviously caught you at a bad time. I'll schedule a meeting with your secretary then."

Beca sighed and finally looked up. She hadn't been able to concentrate on reading anyway. "Don, wait. I'm sorry. It's just… you make it sound like it didn't cost me anything to move to LA and get a shot at my dream.

"Did you think it was _that_ easy for me?"

* * *

 **NOVEMBER 2017 - ATLANTA, GEORGIA  
**

Beca unlocked the door to their apartment after an exhausting day at the studio and was surprised to find their living room lit by candles forming a path like a runway and disappearing around the corner.

"Chlo?" She called out tentatively, shrugging off her jacket and dropping the keys into a bowl by the door. "Babe?"

She followed the path, which, after removing her boots, she realized was also littered with flower petals. She grinned when she saw that they seductively led, not to the bedroom, but to the bathroom. She didn't even realize she was already shrugging off her jacket.

Pushing the slightly open door all the way, Beca's eyes were finally graced with the sight of her beautiful wife submerged in a tub of frothy bubbles. The candles gave the room a soft, golden glow, which Beca loved on Chloe.

"I know we're tightening our purse strings but this is a little excessive," smirked Beca. "We can still afford electricity, you know."

"We're celebrating," explained Chloe, lifting her arms out of the water to reach over to the two glasses of a pale gold liquid sitting by the tub.

"Is that champagne?" Beca asked, sitting on the edge of the tub to accept the flute. "What are we celebrating?"

"We're ce—what are you doing?" laughed Chloe, when Beca continued to simply stare at her while sitting three feet away, fully dressed. "Strip down and get in the tub with me!"

"No foreplay? Okay," Beca said in a jokingly unimpressed tone. When she finally stepped into the tub, however, the water overflowed and splashed onto the floor, dousing some of the smaller candles.

"Oops!" giggled Chloe. "I guess I didn't take your volume into account when filling the tub. Or did you finally grow bigger?"

Instead of coming up with a snarky response, Beca scooted forward and wrapped her legs around Chloe's waist underwater. She splashed even more water onto the tiles but she didn't care. She pressed their bodies together and captured Chloe's lips in her own for a wet, steamy kiss that she made sure lasted a good, long minute.

"Hello, by the way."

Chloe's eyes fluttered open. She paused to regain her composure and to catch her breath before whispering back a throaty, "Hello."

"So what are we celebrating?" repeated Beca, not moving them from their comfortable position. Her eyes followed a droplet of water, golden in the candlelight, trickling down Chloe's glistening neck, and she imagined running her tongue across—

"We are celebrating," Chloe began slowly, bringing the glass between them to recapture Beca's attention, "the fact that this could be one of the last sips of alcohol I get in the next nine months or so… hopefully."

Beca leaned back to get a better look at Chloe and gauge if she were serious. "What?" she gasped, the hint of a smile forming at the corner of her mouth.

"You haven't been keeping track of our savings account, have you?" Chloe reprimanded lightly.

"Isn't that a good thing? At least you know I'm not secretly siphoning money off to finance a cult or something."

"Well, if you had then you would have at least noticed that we've reached the mark."

"We've… reached the mark," Beca stated again, not as a question but as an expression of disbelief and excitement.

Chloe nodded happily. "We can start our family now."

"We can start our family now," Beca repeated again. After all those times they'd come across a baby at the supermarket or at the park, wondering and imagining what their baby would be like, how she would sound and how they would take care of him—they were finally going to find out.

After a long and silent beat, Beca suddenly clinked her glass against Chloe's (surprising her by the sudden energy) and downed its contents in one go. "We're getting pregnant!" she cried joyfully, discarding the flute carelessly and proceeding to lather Chloe's neck with kisses while running her hands all over her body.

"Technically, I—oh, my, you're excited—oh, fuck, Beca!" Chloe cried when Beca's grasp on the edge of the tub slipped and they rolled around, splashing almost all of what was left of the water to the floor.

They didn't spend much time in the bathroom, since Beca preferred her wife wet and trembling on their bed than in the cold tub. They stayed up until well past midnight, taking breaks between their lovemaking to plan doctor's appointments, come up with names (gender-neutral ones as well as for either sex) and talk about other baby-related stuff.

At around a quarter to three in the morning, they were just about to quietly doze off when Beca's phone started ringing.

"Who's calling you this late?" mumbled Chloe, subconsciously ghosting her lips over the hickeys on Beca's skin.

"It's an unknown number," said Beca hoarsely, holding the phone above their heads while Chloe worked her neck. "Should I answer it? It could be an emergency."

Chloe stopped. "Answer it," she nodded.

Beca raised herself into a sitting position and cleared her throat while Chloe rolled off the bed to put on a robe.

"Hello?"

" _Oh. I didn't expect you to pick up_ ," came an unfamiliar male voice on the other end. " _It's almost midnight here in LA, I thought you'd be asleep_ —"

"Can I help you?" Beca cut in curiously.

" _Ah, yes. I hope I'm speaking to Beca Mitchell?_ "

"Yes. Who is this?"

" _My name is Donald Kane, I'm an A &R rep here at Sire Records in LA—_" Beca's heart leapt into her throat " _—I spent the last couple of hours online looking up everything you've ever uploaded, which wasn't easy but nowhere as difficult as tracking you down. I just gotta say: I'm very impressed, Miss Mitchell._ "

Beca's voice caught in her throat. "I—I'm—thanks!" she choked out.

" _I was only hoping to leave a message and have you call me at a better time but if you're free now—_ "

"I'm free now!" Beca insisted. Chloe had returned from the kitchen with a glass of water in hand. She tilted her head curiously at Beca.

Beca pressed a finger to her lips and continued to listen to Donald Kane's voice. " _As I take it, you're currently employed by Residual Heat Records?_ "

"Yes, sir."

The voice on the other end chuckled. " _Please, call me Don. Anyway, I was wondering if you had produced any tracks with them._ "

Beca hesitated, unsure of whether it was in her best interest to disclose that type of information. Don seemed to have sensed this, because he said, " _Don't worry, I'm not trying to steal intellectual property or anything like that. It would just put icing on the cake I'd be serving to my boss when I tell him I want to sign you._ "

Beca's fingers trembled with excitement. "Yes, I have," she gushed. "Well, I co-produced a song called 'Flashlight' with my boss, and I remixed one song for Snoop Dogg's last Christmas album."

Chloe sat on the bed quietly, trying to gather as much as she could from one side of Beca's phone conversation.

" _All right, I was just checking. I actually knew all that,_ " Don laughed. " _The first step to a good business relationship is honesty, Miss Mitchell, and I appreciate yours. Now it's my turn._

" _I want to be clear: w_ _hat I'm offering you is not a one-way ticket to stardom. It is important that you understand that all I'm offering is a_ chance _—a chance to prove yourself to the big leagues here in LA. You don't have much of your music out there—for God knows why—so you're not exactly an easy sell with a virtually-zero fan-base. But I think you've got a natural talent and, frankly, I'm lucky Residual Heat hasn't thought of signing you already—_ "

Beca resisted crying out in agreement lest she seemed too full of herself. She was grateful to her quirky boss for providing her with the hands-on experience of an assistant engineer, but she had already learned all that she needed to learn in her first week and she was ready to see if she could take it to the next level.

" _So listen, here's how it goes,_ " continued Don. " _You fly out to LA for, I don't know, a month or two or three—enough time to form a battle plan, so to speak. We'll fix you up, maybe lay some tracks, and then we present your demo to my boss and see where it goes, yeah?_ "

"Um, what exactly—?" Beca started to ask but Don cut her off.

" _Listen, this stuff's not easy to digest so early in the AM, even for me. Like I said, I just wanted to leave a voicemail before the NSA sees my Internet history and tips off someone from Atlantic Records about you. So how about I shoot you an e-mail later today with all the details ironed out? I can foot your ticket but that's about as far as I'm allowed to go, unfortunately._ "

Beca could do nothing but agree and exchange contact information with the fast-talking Don Kane. And when she finally hung up, she looked up from her phone to see Chloe waiting expectantly to be filled in. Beca told her about the offer while fetching her laptop to do a background check on this Donald Kane person.

"So, wait, he wants you to go to LA to 'form a battle plan'?" Chloe asked confusedly.

"I think it's just his way of saying we need to strategize how I'm supposed to present my music to his boss," said Beca, tapping away at the computer. Having her hands and brain occupied with the search calmed her overexcited heart. "Whoa. He's legit, Chlo, look."

They discovered that Don Kane was not just an A&R representative; he had also produced music for some pretty popular up-and-coming musicians. And the company he worked for, Sire Records, was a division of some other major record label, which was a division of some conglomerate media company. His position in the industry was unquestionable.

Chloe's eyes widened at the press photo of Don with Camila Cabello. "Holy crap."

"This is really happening," muttered Beca. "I mean, someone from LA actually finds my music… _good_."

"Of course your music is good, babe!" Chloe said at once, planting multiple kisses on Beca's cheek as a form of encouragement. "I don't know why you put so little of it out there, really."

"That's what he said," remarked Beca. After a quiet pause, she turned away from the laptop and reached for Chloe's hands. "I don't know what to do, Chlo. Tell me what to do."

Chloe's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Please don't tell me you're thinking of _not_ taking the offer!"

"But I told you, it's not technically an offer. It's just a chance to polish my music and get it heard by a label exec." Beca swallowed. "We're not even sure if they'll like it."

"But Becs, this Don guy likes it," argued Chloe. "And he's already in the business! Look at all these artists he's worked with," she waved a hand at the screen. "That means you really have a shot if all you need is to convince his boss!"

"But what about—"

"Babe, when opportunity comes a-knockin' you don't send it back to the wilderness," Chloe preached in an adorable Southern accent.

"The wilderness?" Beca smirked. Chloe was being as headstrong as always; she second-guessed what Beca was concerned about. "But I was actually going to say, what about our plan to have a baby?"

In the future, Beca would look back at this moment—this brief half-second—when Chloe's expression transformed from disappointed to determined and wonder.

Chloe only gripped Beca's hands tighter. "I… feel like such a flake for saying this, but... there will always be time for us to have a baby. Right? But how often do we get a chance to pursue our _dream job_?"

Beca looked deep into Chloe's eyes for any sign of insincerity, any doubt that this was a fair decision for Beca to make about the direction of their lives. She found none. Instead, she found in Chloe's fiercely supportive eyes the courage to be honest.

"I'm scared," she confessed. "I don't want to go there and find out I'm not good enough—not because of ego or anything! I mean, at least if we settle down _now_ , I don't completely ruin both our lives."

"Beca," Chloe untangled their hands and cupped Beca's face gently to refocus her wife's eyes on her own. Beca's gaze had drifted to the side during her confession, the way it often did whenever she tried to mask her emotions, and Chloe knew to catch it before it got away. "We are way too young to stop trying to reach for our dreams just because we're afraid of failure. You have nothing to be afraid of. I will always be there for you."

Beca took in a deep breath. "But are you sure you're okay with this? With postponing our plans, after all the effort these past few months?" she asked, anxiety evident on her face.

Chloe hugged Beca tightly. "Of course I'm okay with it! Besides, it's not like we're not taking down the picture, silly! We'll still have our happy and healthy baby, our five dogs, our house with a huge yard—"

"Wait, how many dogs—?"

"—we're just taking a detour to see if Beca Mitchell, DJ extraordinaire, could be added to that picture," Chloe finished brightly.

But Beca was still concerned about making their next big life decision. "Moving to LA isn't going to be cheap," she warned. "We're both going to have to quit our jobs and look for new ones. We'll have to dip into our baby money to get started the first couple of months…"

"It pays off eventually," Chloe said, brushing off her wife's financial concerns with a wave of her hand. "I mean, even if you don't get signed, think about how living in LA can speed up your career! We're practically at the heart of the music industry; you'll get tons of gigs for sure!"

Despite being less optimistic that she'd get 'tons' of gigs, Beca cracked a smile. She shook her head in disbelief. "How did I get so lucky?"

"It isn't all luck, babe. That Don guy saw potential in you because you have it."

Beca smirked. _Oh, my headstrong and oblivious wife._ "I meant for having you in my life," she clarified, joining their hands again. Five or six years ago, Beca would have been crippled by disgust for saying something like that; but over the years that she had known and been with Chloe, she found it less and less cheesy to verbally express her love and praise for that woman.

Because Chloe deserved it. All of it.

"Seriously. You never stop believing in me, even when I don't believe in myself. You're encouraging me to follow my dream even if it means putting off ours, and promising to love me even if I fail—I mean, who _does_ that?" She sighed contentedly. "You're the love of my life, Chloe Beale. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Chloe smiled at Beca lovingly and leaned forward for a kiss. "I love you, too. But don't think you're getting this for free," she added with her own smirk. "You better invest all that money you'll get from producing kick-ass music into our future family. I'm thinking private school, a vacation house by the beach, and yearly trips to Europe."

* * *

 **PRESENT - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA**

"Beca… if I had known bringing you to LA would cause problems for you and Chloe down the road—"

Beca shook her head firmly. She had spent months thinking along those lines and even more months convincing herself that it wasn't true. And now that she was over it—now that everyone involved was over it—there was no need to bring up the past again.

"Chloe and I split up long after we moved," was all she felt right telling him. Don, after all, wasn't a close personal friend. "Anyway, what did you want to meet me for?"

"Right." Don straightened up, switching into business mode. "So I heard through the corporate grapevine that Island is looking to snatch you up once your contract here expires."

"And?"

Don rolled his eyes and walked over to the shelf displaying the various awards and accolades that Beca had achieved in the short amount of time she had been in the business. "Look, Beca, your blatant disregard for the way things work in this industry is cute and all, but you're in a different position now than where you were four years ago."

Beca shrugged. "It seems to be working well for me so far, if Island Records wants to sign me."

"You know what I mean." Don dropped into the sofa on the other side of Beca's office and settled himself comfortably. "You can't keep hopping labels, Beca. People will think you're unreliable."

"All these labels will eventually belong to the same rich white guy anyway. Besides, it's not like I do it on purpose," said Beca. "Sometimes the other team's offer is better."

"Oh, really?" drawled Don, unconvinced. "'Cause here I was thinking you go from record company to record company to even out the numbers and avoid looking like a sellout."

Beca looked over to where Don had his feet on her glass coffee table. "Came here to lecture me, Don?"

"Oh, hell no," he said. He swung his legs off the table and planted them firmly with the air of a tough negotiatior. "I came here with a business proposition."

"Uh-oh," said Beca, a smirk forming on her lips. She recognized the familiar, ambitious glint in his eyes; it was the same one she saw years ago when she moved to LA to meet him.

Don kept that glint even when his boss refused to sign Beca on account of her virtually nonexistent fanbase. "It's all part of the plan," he had assured her after the heavy and heartbreaking meeting. While he wasn't allowed (at the time) to sign artists without his boss's permission, he was allowed to hire associate producers, which was exactly what he did for Beca.

In hindsight, Beca would admit that it was the perfect move for her career. As a producer, she got to work with artists and build her fanbase out of them instead of worrying about demographics. Sire Records had only been a small label among many in LA but after just one year, she had helped more than half a dozen fresh artists launch their careers, even getting recognition during a speech at the Grammys.

Eventually, the bigger names got interested in her style and she was able to produce one hit after another. It wasn't long before her popularity with artists skyrocketed, which made it much easier for her to gain popularity with the rest of the world when she launched her first single, followed shortly by her first album.

So, in spite of her disposition to dislike the man, Beca still trusted Don's business instincts, so she listened to his latest proposition.

"Let's be honest here, you hate that company execs think of you as a money-maker, right? You wanna shove their money up their asses," Don said, making an obscene gesture with his hands. "And at this point in your career, artists are calling _you_ to collaborate with them. So, I'm thinking you're ready for the next step."

"Which is?" Beca asked, though she already had a feeling where this was going.

"You go independent. Start your own label, breed new artists, all the while building on your own brand of music."

Beca allowed herself a grin but shook her head. "I don't have the experience—or the money—to start my own label, Don. I've barely scratched the surface of this industry as it is. How am I supposed to compete in it on my own?"

"Money is easy; you won't be alone, you'll be with me," Don listed on his fingers dismissively; "and experience is overrated."

Beca raised her eyebrow. "And you say _I_ blatantly disregard the way this industry works."

"This industry runs on networks and, ironically, your cold indifference toward building them seems to attract powerful people. So come on," Don egged, "I'll even draw up the business plan for you and have it on your desk by next week."

Beca still didn't respond. She only flipped to the next page of her production notes. "I'll think about it," she said, if only to get him to leave so that she could actually think about it.

"I'll take that as a yes," Don said, looking satisfied by the outcome of his errand. Taking Beca's continued silence as his cue to leave, he got to his feet and dusted his jacket. Before he left the room, however, he added innocently, "By the way... I didn't know you could read upside down."

Beca frowned down at the paper in front of her and only then realized that whoever had placed them on her desk didn't think to rotate them first.

* * *

 **\- ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN**

Chloe stood in her kitchen, tapping her fingers thoughtfully on the countertop. Her pantry was wide open, revealing ransacked shelves of various ingredients. She debated changing the meal she had in mind over going out and buying the missing ingredients. Eventually, she came to the lazy decision to just order takeout.

While preparing for a dinner in front of the TV, the idea to get rid of the junk under her coffee table came to mind. Chloe was a notorious pack rat, keeping every trinket, every letter, and every item she had ever touched and stashing them in every free corner of her home. Since becoming somewhat of a celebrity, however, she had to learn to keep her condo spick and span for guests.

Sitting cross-legged between the table and her sofa, she began pulling out the stacks under the table. Her fingers lingered on the spine of a thin folder and she pulled it out from between a stack of food magazines. It turned to contain some pages of an old screenplay, which she proceeded to skim through with a smile on her face. It was the first ever script she had held, for a part in an indie film she had agreed to star in as a favor.

Chloe still couldn't believe it had only been four years since.

* * *

 **DECEMBER 2017 - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA  
**

"This is _all_ our stuff?" Chloe wondered aloud, gesturing at the two large boxes and two duffel bags in the center of the empty (save for a small couch) living room. "I thought we had more when we left."

Beca closed the door behind them and adjusted the strap of the comically large bag carrying her precious recording and mixing equipment. "These are all the stuff I could fit in the car," she said. "The moving guys said the rest are going to arrive on Tuesday."

Dropping her own bags carelessly on the floor, Chloe entered their new bedroom for the first time. It was fairly large, almost twice the size of their old one, and flooded with natural light from the large windows, beyond which was a modest balcony and a view of the less fabulous side of town. Inside, the expanse of shiny hardwood floors only served to highlight the obvious lack of a bed frame.

"Uh, Beca?"

"Yeah?"

"When you spoke to the landlord, did he mention a bed? Or… a lack thereof?"

Beca appeared beside her seconds later. She let out a disapproving groan and turned to confront the landlord downstairs, but Chloe stopped her. "Actually," she began slowly, "I'm kinda digging it."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I mean we could still put a mattress on the floor, add some pillows, a duvet... It has sort of a cool, bohemian feel to it, doesn't it?"

Beca caught sight of Chloe's bottom lip clasped between her teeth and raised an eyebrow. "This is another one of your weird kinks, isn't it?"

Chloe responded with a sly grin.

"What, is it the hardwood floors?"

Chloe nodded provocatively. Beca shook her head in amusement and asked, "Doesn't that hurt though?"

They found out an hour later that it did, but it was worth it.

* * *

During their first week in their new apartment, Beca was meeting Don morning to night, almost every day, while Chloe sent her resume to local schools and checked out seasonal jobs. She was still eager to continue her teaching career, but given that LA was a more diverse town, she was open to any opportunity.

At Beca's request, Jesse had visited their place more often than a friend normally would, to help them settle down and to pick up Beca's slack from being at work all the time. Chloe didn't mind doing all the work herself, but she appreciated Jesse's company nonetheless. He had been living in LA since shortly before graduation, so he shared his wisdom on living in la-la land.

"Hey, Chlo," Jesse said on his third night of moving the living room furniture around. "You ever thought of going on an audition? You know, now that you're here in LA."

"What are you talking about?" Chloe asked absentmindedly, squinting to check if the framed wall photo was indeed as lopsided as she imagined it was.

"I have this friend from school working on a short film and he's casting for a character that is so you," said Jesse. He pointed to one of the Bellas pictures. "I just remembered the skit you pulled off for freshman orientation back at Barden. It was pretty great. Would you be interested in doing some more of that kind of stuff?"

"You mean acting?"

Jesse nodded eagerly. "It's a small project, though, so don't expect to be paid in anything other than food."

"Hmm… I do miss performing but I haven't really thought about _acting_ ," Chloe said honestly. "Then again, I'm always game for free food. What kind of movie is this exactly?"

"It's either the greatest piece of art ever made or the most confusing one."

"That's… informative."

Jesse laughed. "Just trust me, this guy has a visionary mind. Are you free on Thursday? I could take you to his apartment and you can do your audition there."

Chloe blinked. "Just like that? I don't even know what the part is, what my lines are—"

"Details!" Jesse waved away her worries. "This is LA, baby! You're in the fast lane now!" He moved the armchair an inch to the right and added sheepishly, "Also, he's pretty desperate, so..."

* * *

After successfully being cast in the main role of a character study of a girl with dissociative identity disorder, Chloe discovered that she did quite enjoy acting. She always had been fluid with her personality and found that she loved experimenting with different ones, as the script required. And while she loved her new temp job teaching music (to kindergarten students this time) she often spent the days looking forward to filming her scenes with Jesse's friend, Frankie.

Beca was supportive of Chloe's acting, to the point of near indifference. She was still busy working on the demo for Don's boss, which was a more intense and rigorous process than she had thought, so she was glad (if not relieved) that Chloe had found something to occupy her time.

But acting didn't _just_ occupy Chloe's time while she waited to get a more permanent job. It soon became clear that she had caught the bug and, without much ado from either her or her wife, she continued to audition for small roles wherever she could find them. Frankie had opened the doors for a lot of low-budget projects, but eventually Chloe also explored the local community theater to rekindle her musical passion.

It wasn't easy. With no professional training or experience, Chloe received a string of rejection and unsolicited criticism whenever she ventured outside amateur productions. Despite being someone who wore her heart on her sleeve, Chloe always found consolation in the fact that, at the end of the day, she could tell herself that it was just a hobby she could nurture, alongside her passion for teaching.

That wasn't a fact for long.

* * *

 **APRIL 2018 - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA  
**

Chloe returned home one Spring afternoon to find her wife sitting on the kitchen stool with her back to the door, eating a bowl of ice cream. Beca was tiny enough to be able to fold her legs under herself on the chair, making her look even smaller than she already was.

Having lived in LA for almost four months, Chloe knew it was unusual for her wife to be home this early. Once she remembered that the big presentation to the record company execs was exactly a week ago, she feared the worst. "Babe?" she offered gently, setting her bag down.

Beca twisted around, holding a spoon between her lips. She pulled it out with a pop and offered Chloe a scoop. "I didn't get signed," she said flatly.

Chloe's shoulders sagged. She immediately felt like enveloping Beca in a protective bubble of comfort and never letting go until all was better, but she knew that Beca hated being pitied so she settled with a hand on the shoulder. "Beca, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Beca replied, putting down the spoon of uneaten ice cream. "I actually don't feel that bad about it because… well, Don offered me a job as a producer instead."

Chloe paused before saying tentatively. "That's… good. Isn't it?"

Wearing a thoughtful expression, Beca rested her elbows on the counter. "Yeah, I think so. I mean it's what I always wanted to do—produce music, right? I guess I've just been so focused these past few months on the glitz and glam of being a solo artist that I got caught up in its promise... I feel kind of stupid, now that I think about it."

"Don't. You shouldn't punish yourself for just wanting what you want." Chloe was still cautious of Beca's solemn behavior but, personally, she was relieved that she had at least hit solid ground with her job. They were burning through their savings and they both knew it. Her own part-time teacher's salary wasn't enough to keep them both living in LA and, if anything, her on-the-side acting pursuits were only _costing_ them more money.

Which was why Chloe was feeling particularly nauseated by the daydreams she had been having the past month or so.

Beca felt arms wrap around her and then felt Chloe's head rest on her shoulder. She reached up and caressed Chloe's arm. "I'm fine," she assured. "I'm better than fine, really. I'm excited. Even by normal standards this is a huge leap for my career. I went from setting up recording equipment to making music for a living.

"And speaking of huge leaps in careers…" Beca leaned across the counter and picked up a fancy, black and gold envelope. "Your invitations to that film festival were in the mail when I got home."

"Cool." Chloe gave them a half-hearted glance before wearily taking a seat on the stool beside Beca.

Eyebrows raised, Beca gave her a reprimanding look. "Hey. This is a big deal. I mean I thought the movie was great but what do I know, right? Actual movie nerds think it's great, too, so that's awesome! I'm super proud of you, Chlo."

They shared a kiss, and when Chloe pulled back she had very noticeable apprehension on her face.

"What's bothering you?" Beca asked in concern. "Oh no, I didn't bum you out earlier, did I? I'm sorry—"

"No, baby. I just want you to be happy."

Beca lifted Chloe's chin and looked into her eyes. "Right back at you, so why don't you tell me what's keeping that from happening?"

Chloe sighed. She supposed she couldn't escape talking about it now. "I guess I really didn't expect the movie to get this much attention. I'm happy for Frankie, obviously, but… Do you ever get the feeling that you've woken up a different person from someone you used to be? Like, it's just a normal day but not really?"

Chloe took Beca's confused frown as a no. She bit her lip and shook her head. "Never mind," she dismissed. "Even I don't get what I'm trying to say."

"No, wait, come here—" Beca grabbed Chloe's wrist when the redhead tried to leave, and pulled her onto her lap. "Imagine I'm one of your students and tell me, in simple terms, what's bothering you."

It was a technique Beca had learned to use about a year into their relationship. Contrary to popular belief, Chloe's bubbly and open personality didn't automatically mean she was good at expressing her feelings. Beca had learned that Chloe was a pathological overthinker and needed help distilling her thoughts before they blew up in her mind and manifested in the physical world in outrageous ways.

Chloe smiled gratefully. "Okay... Here it goes." She took a deep breath. "I really like acting."

"Okay."

"… but I don't want to know if I'm good at it."

Beca resisted the urge to think ahead about what that could mean. "Why not?"

"Because I might not want to teach anymore."

Beca paused, wondering if Chloe skipped a step on purpose to avoid having to say the truth out loud, and had to connect the dots herself. "So you're worried that… if Frankie's movie gets popular and you find out that you're good at it, then you might want to quit teaching to take acting seriously?"

Chloe avoided her eyes and nodded with a small smile. "My kindergarten students probably wouldn't understand that phraseology, but yes."

"Well, what's wrong with that?"

Chloe looked up in surprise. "You mean you wouldn't mind if I suddenly changed careers?"

Beca gave her an equally surprised look. "Why would I?"

"Well, because it's an unstable career! Sure, teaching doesn't pay well but at least it leads to a steady income once I get a full-time position. And, Beca, you know how _obsessed_ I can get about competition! Imagine that kind of work—going on auditions, facing rejection—it would drive me crazy! Also, you hate movies so it'd be weird. Not to mention… we'd have to put off, you know, starting our family. Again." She listed all her reasons in one breath.

Beca looked off to the side as she pieced it all together. "Chloe," she began with a disappointed sigh. "First of all, you didn't seriously think me not liking movies is going to make me not support you on this, did you?"

Chloe hung her head and shook it. "No…"

"And did I fail to mention that my new job pays over _twice_ what I was getting at Residual Heat? And I know, I know—" She put up a hand before Chloe could say anything "—you want to carry your own weight, I get it, but I made _you_ give up your job in Atlanta and our chance to start a family then just so I could follow my dream and you told me to go for it. That goes both ways, doesn't it?

"You don't have to hold yourself back for me, Chlo. For us or for our family. I love you more than life itself so I want you to follow your dreams, too. And remember what you told me before we moved here?" Beca tucked a strand of Chloe's hair behind her ear. "We're still young. We've got plenty of time to start a family. Maybe this is the time we find out what we really want in life besides being moms."


	3. Together Doesn't Mean Forever

**Chapter Three:**

 **Whoever Said Together Doesn't Mean Forever Had a Point**

* * *

 **PRESENT - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA**

For months after the divorce, Chloe kept thinking about that moment over and over, wondering whether she should have kept her mouth shut about wanting to change careers and whether that would have changed anything. She had already convinced herself that it couldn't, and that she didn't regret anything. Neither did Beca, she believed.

"No need to bring that up again," she muttered to herself, just as her phone beeped with a message.

Using this as an excuse to abandon any effort to further organize her living room, Chloe dusted herself off and sat on the couch to read the message.

'I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR WHAT'S COMING YOUR WAY,' it read.

It was from Beca.

Before Chloe could even furrow her brow, the rare image of a relaxed and smiling Aubrey Posen popped up on her screen. Her finger had barely grazed the green icon when she heard her best friend's voice blaring through the speakers.

" _I'M THE FIFTH PERSON TO FIND OUT YOU'RE PLANNING TO HAVE A BABY?!_ "

"You're still above my parents," Chloe placated in a cutesy, sugary voice, holding her phone a foot away from her ear.

There was a pause on the other end while Aubrey gave her some credit for that gesture. " _Still, I should have been in the top three at the very least,_ " she rebuked.

Chloe counted on the fingers of her free hand how many actually knew. "Wait, Beca's the third person I told, so you're actually the fourth."

" _I heard it from Jesse_ ," Aubrey said bitterly, " _who heard it from Beca, no doubt._ "

Chloe rolled her eyes. "I was just with her this morning, how did she—"

" _The dissemination of information is not important here!_ " Aubrey cut in shrilly. " _This is a Class A Bellas secret!_ "

"Is it though?" Chloe said facetiously, something she learned from her wife.

" _Yes, Chloe! On December 2015, months after you and Beca_ eloped _like a couple of dirt-bag teenagers, we promised that anything involving marriage and family is a Class A Bellas secret! You're supposed to tell us these things!_ "

"In my defense, I was planning on telling you all eventually, but of course Beca had to be first, she's my... ex-wife." Chloe cringed at how weird it sounded. She realized she had never actually referred to Beca that way before.

Apparently Aubrey thought so, too, because she made an odd noise in her throat. " _That sounded weird,_ " she said. " _But I guess I understand. Did you tell Beca to keep it a secret, though? 'Cause Jesse's not even a Bella and he knows…_ "

Chloe chuckled at her best friend's jealousy. "I'll be sure to punish Beca for squealing," she said. "How about I make it up to you by telling you all about my doctor's appointment this Thursday the second I'm done?"

" _I have a better idea: I'll head down there and go with you._ "

"Don't you have work?"

" _No, it fits perfectly with my next lesson on dealing with a lack of corporate direction,_ " Aubrey said cheerfully. " _Anyway, I gotta go, Chlo. I'm actually in the middle of a meeting right now._ "

"Bree!" Chloe scolded right before hanging up.

* * *

A few days later, Chloe emerged—but only after Aubrey had thoroughly checked if the coast was clear—from a fertility clinic just outside of town that was recommended by her gynecologist. Together, the two best friends walked briskly to the small lot where they had parked Jesse's car (borrowed under the pretense of a Girl's Day Out).

Chloe's test results were excellent and now that they were certain she was healthy and could begin trying for a baby, Aubrey decided it was the right time to drop her own big announcement, which she did in typical Posen fashion: straight to the point.

"Jesse and I are moving in together."

Chloe nearly broke her neck turning to face Aubrey, her mouth fully open in surprise. "What?! Bree! That's so great! I'm so happy for you!"

"No hugs until the car is safely parked!" Aubrey scolded when Chloe reached over from the passenger seat with her arms outstretched.

Undeterred but sufficiently suppressed, Chloe retracted her arms and drummed her fingers excitedly on her lap. "Wait, so who's moving in with who? Please, please, please tell me you're moving here!"

Aubrey nodded. "That's kind of also why I'm in town. We're looking for a bigger place. Jesse's apartment is already kind of claustrophobic even without me in it."

Chloe squealed in delight. "But wait, what about the Lodge?"

"I convinced management to acquire an old retreat center just a few minutes outside LA as a first step toward expansion," explained Aubrey. "And I had them assign me as general manager, which only makes sense since I came up with the whole plan," she added proudly. "So since I'm moving here, Jesse and I decided to take the next step in our relationship."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "The 'next' step? Bree, at this rate you'll be picking out a wedding date at fifty."

"Hey, cut us some slack, long distance slows things down a lot. I'm surprised we even made it this far," said Aubrey, maneuvering around the visitor's parking in Chloe's building. "Besides, not everyone's as excited as you are when it comes to starting a family. Speaking of which, why _are_ you? I mean, I thought you'd gotten over that these past few years."

"Well, you know I've always wanted to be a mom," Chloe said patiently. "I accepted that there'd be hurdles along the way, so I went through them at first, but I never really _stopped_ wanting it. My life had taken a different turn then and now… I'm just trying to get to the end. I can finally afford to take a break from work, and I have enough to raise a child comfortably, so why not?"

Aubrey nodded, putting the car in park. "And you're a hundred percent sure you want to do this alone?" she asked slowly.

Chloe gave her a funny look. "I thought you of all people would understand that a woman can raise a child alone if she wants to."

"True, but," Aubrey shook her head, "Chloe, you do understand that… this family you're starting is just you _and your baby_ , right? You're basically locking it down and—"

"And with every decision I make from now on, I'll have to put my baby first. I know, Bree." Chloe smiled and squeezed Aubrey's hand. "I've thought about it and made a promise. My baby will come before my career no matter what."

Aubrey looked Chloe in the eyes and saw the expression she wore whenever she had her mind set and stubbornly locked onto one thing. It's wasn't unfamiliar; after all, who else could Chloe have learned it from? Chloe could be a fiercely determined person when she wanted to be—a characteristic Aubrey was proud she helped develop—and more often than not that sheer determination was enough to accomplish whatever task she set her mind to, especially when it came to her own happiness.

"Okay," said Aubrey, returning the squeeze. "I was only looking out for your future lack of a sex life but I trust you've thought about that as well."

* * *

 **MAY 2018 - BECA AND CHLOE'S APARTMENT, LA  
**

"Hey, Becs!"

Jesse greeted his slightly out of breath best friend through her apartment door with a huge grin and a bottle of wine. "Happy anniver—wait, where's Chloe?"

"She's on her way. Thanks! Come on in." Nodding at Jesse and Aubrey in greeting, Beca accepted the bottle with a quick yank and ushered them in unceremoniously. "She got caught up at the shoot but she'll be here in five minutes."

"She's working late on the night of your anniversary? Uh-oh," Jesse smirked. "Typical second-act breakup trope."

Aubrey elbowed him in the ribs. "I'm sure Chloe has a good reason for being late," she said.

Beca rolled her eyes at Jesse's joke. "She does and I don't blame her. It's a great role and apparently the director is this eccentric genius—"

"Wait, who's the director?" Jesse asked, suddenly switching gears from teasing to intrigued.

"I dunno, some guy," shrugged Beca. "I think he won an award last year, that's why Chloe said it was a big deal that she got the part in his movie."

"Awesome! They're still filming, right? Do you think Chloe can get me to score it?"

"Ask her, dude, I have no idea how this movie stuff works."

Aubrey raised an eyebrow. "It's what Chloe chooses to do for a living, don't you think you should—?"

The jingle of keys cut off Jesse's question and signaled Chloe's arrival. The redhead burst in—"Sorry I'm late!"—and dropped her purse carelessly by the door before sprinting across the living room. Aubrey and Jesse tracked her movement in confusion until she crashed into Beca with the force of the ocean hitting the shore.

"Whoa, easy there," Aubrey laughed as Chloe wrapped her legs around Beca's waist and started kissing her fiercely. The momentum of their coupling sent Beca, whose nails were digging into Chloe's thighs for purchase, against the wall. "Okay— _whoa_!" Aubrey yelled, covering Jesse's eyes as their kiss exceeded PG-13 levels. "Remember that you have _guests_ , ladies. Keep it in your pants!"

"Sorry," panted Chloe, unhooking her legs and giggling when Beca's hands had instinctively slid upwards to grab her ass. "We made a promise to greet each other that way any time either of us comes home late."

"Now you know why I don't mind," Beca smirked at Jesse, who had pulled Aubrey's hands away from his eyes and was now holding them tenderly around his neck.

"Maybe you can greet me that way when I pick you up from the airport?" he suggested to his girlfriend with a puppy-dog pout.

"But then we'd only get to do it once," Aubrey retorted with a playful glare, "since I'm the one always having to visit _you_ here."

"Baby, you're dating a composer. You can't expect me to be rolling around in dough."

* * *

"And, I swear to God, sweat literally pouring down his neck," Chloe gasped between hiccups of laughter, "as he tried to show Michelle exactly how he wanted the scene to go—and I was just standing there feeling sorry for her 'cause she was getting drenched!"

Aubrey, Jesse, and Beca cackled and wiped tears of laughter out of their eyes. They had asked about how her work was going and she immediately dove into her library of work stories devoted to the antics of her one of a kind boss.

"Eccentric doesn't even begin to describe this guy," Chloe said, breathless from laughter. "Did I tell you what he asked me to do for, like, my bajillionth callback?"

"Oh, my God!" Beca prematurely laughed, recalling the time she came home to Chloe with the strangest expression on her face and a nice, pleasant citrus smell around the apartment. "Tell them what you did!"

Chloe began her story. "So I walk into the audition room for, like, the eighth time in five days and the first thing I see is a sack of oranges on the desk. There was no script this time. He simply said, ' _Eat the orange_.'" She paused for effect. "By this time, I'm convinced this guy is fucking nuts so I just look around the room at the producer and the writer. They're all just staring at me, waiting—like _I_ was the crazy one! Then I look down. The floor was _slick_ with juice, bits of orange peels everywhere—and I just fucking lost it."

Beca bit her lip as she watched Chloe get in the storytelling mood. Even though she was hearing it for the second time, Beca felt genuinely engrossed in the story—although more in the woman telling it. She loved hearing Chloe swear; she found it incredibly sexy, maybe because she only did it in the bedroom.

Aubrey and Jesse were hooked as well. "What do you mean you lost it?" they asked in unison.

"I lost it! I wanted the role so badly but they had us all jumping through hoops for five days straight. I was exhausted and felt like I was wasting my time. I could have been going on other auditions instead of being a puppet to this lunatic! So I marched up to them, grabbed an orange, and stuffed that son of a bitch in my mouth and bit as hard as I could. I was this close to spitting it out to their faces," she brought her finger and thumb a centimeter apart, "but when I looked up, they hadn't even moved an inch. That's when it hit me. These people are _crazy_. They don't care about my tantrum! But what they _did_ care about was the fact that I didn't actually eat the orange. I couldn't give them the satisfaction of winning this fucked up mind game so I chewed like my life depended on it and swallowed."

Jesse grimaced in disgusted amusement while Aubrey covered her face and groaned, "Aw, gross, Chloe! Even the peel?"

"Even the peel," the redhead admitted with a nod. "But I didn't stop there. I ate the whole. Damned. Thing. Then I apologized and got the hell outta there," she added proudly.

Jesse was shaking with laughter and even Aubrey had to join in. For Beca, the most adorable thing was that Chloe still felt the need to apologize to the people who tormented her. "She had such a stomach ache that night, she cried herself to sleep," she cooed sympathetically, caressing Chloe's cheek. "But she smelled like oranges for days so that was great."

"That was not why I cried!" Chloe said defensively, swatting Beca's hand away. "I was physically and emotionally exhausted and I'd just made a fool of myself—in front of a casting director as well! I really wanted that part and I thought I lost it—and my reputation—because I lost it over some dumb oranges."

"Well, you got the part," commended Jesse, raising his nearly empty glass of wine in congratulations. "I guess the director thought you'd fit right in with the crazy crew."

Chloe gave a shrug that expressed something between agreement and disbelief. "Never again, though."

"Oh, come on, Chloe, it's not like that was the first—nor will it be the last—time you made a fool of yourself over something you really wanted," laughed Aubrey. "It's practically chapter one in the story of your marriage."

"What are you talking about?" Beca and Chloe said in unison, the latter more cautiously than the other.

Aubrey paused. "Wait, does Beca not know about…?" She turned to Chloe, whose baby blue eyes slowly widened in realization. "The radio station—?"

"NO!" Chloe leaned across the table and cupped her hand over Aubrey's mouth forcefully.

"Oh, my God!" Beca watched in amazement as Aubrey fought to pull Chloe's hand away, resulting in a playful tussle. She caught Jesse's eye and they both nodded. Jesse spooned a bit of hollandaise onto Chloe's wrist, causing her to jerk her hands away from Aubrey and giving Beca the chance to pin her arms to her sides so Aubrey could speak.

"Tell us! Tell us!" Jesse chanted like an enthusiastic child, pounding his fist on the dining table.

Chloe wriggled in Beca's arms and wailed, "What's going on? Is it rag on Chloe day today?" Beca pulled Chloe onto her lap, placating her with a comforting look.

"It was not that bad!" Aubrey said in attempt to ease Chloe's distress. "It's actually pretty cute—"

"It was embarrassing!"

"Just tell us!" Jesse and Beca shouted.

Sparing Chloe a sympathetic glance, Aubrey repeated, "It really wasn't that bad, Chlo. This was back in senior year—our senior year," she added in clarification, "when she was so head-over-heels obsessed with Beca—"

"Okay, that part I knew," Beca interjected smugly, planting a kiss behind Chloe's ear.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Well, _now_ you do."

"Yeah, Becs, you were totally oblivious to Chloe coming on to you in freshman year," scoffed Jesse. "Even Benji knew and he lived in his magic box for most of the year."

"Anyway," continued Aubrey, "this was after Spring Break, I think, when you were already allowed by your boss to be on the air at WBUJ."

Beca nodded, recalling her earlier days as a college radio DJ.

"You had this segment where you accepted callers and got their requests..."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I remember that. There were always these pathetic losers who called to confess their—"

Aubrey bit her lip and Chloe groaned painfully. Beca's mouth dropped.

"—oh... my God."

Jesse looked like a kid in a candy store—his mouth was stretched wide with glee and he was vibrating with silent, suppressed laughter.

"Chloe called and said…" Aubrey scrunched her nose, trying to remember the words. "… that she was in love with this girl—"

"Whose eyes awakened my sleeping soul," Chloe recited caustically, too far gone in her embarrassment to care, "whose touch made me quiver with the thought of infinite possibilities… and whose voice unraveled the threads of my existence. She could do all these things to me and not even know it."

When no one spoke for a while, out of a desire not to offend her, Chloe snapped in her own defense: "I was young and desperate, okay? And my Introduction to Poetry class was, like, the only thing I wasn't failing that semester," she added in an undertone.

"No, that was really sweet," said Jesse, his voice slightly strained from swallowing his laughter.

Chloe didn't find his approval that credible. Jesse was a sucker for romantic gestures so it probably didn't appear as shameful to him as it did to her.

"I don't think you made a fool of yourself, Chlo," he said more assuredly. "Beca's just dense—"

"Oh, Chloe's speech didn't end there," Aubrey interrupted tantalizingly. "Obviously, Beca still didn't know what was going on at that time, but Chloe _assumed_ her confession was clear, so at the end she said that, if the other person felt the same way—"

"'Open the door,'" finished Beca, her tone emotionless. She relaxed her hold on Chloe and repositioned her on her lap so that they faced each other. "So you were waiting outside the station?"

Chloe nodded meekly.

"For how long?"

"Well, I didn't know if you had said anything in reply since I stupidly didn't bring a radio with me so… about ten minutes?"

"She waited an hour," corrected Aubrey, earning herself a glare from Chloe.

Beca felt a physical ache in her heart at the thought of Chloe waiting for her and being disappointed when she didn't respond. "Chloe, I'm so sorry," she apologized seriously. "If I had known what was going on I would've kicked down the door—"

"I know, baby." Chloe pecked Beca on the lips in assurance that it was not something she continued to obsess over. "You don't have to apologize. In case you need reminding, we _are_ celebrating our third wedding anniversary tonight. You might say things have gone pretty well for us since."

Beca chuckled. "I can't believe I didn't recognize your voice though! I mean I spent months reliving our shower duet in my head, how could I not have known it was you?"

"Hmm, it was a few days after my nodes surgery," recalled Chloe, rubbing her throat. "Maybe that was why? God, you must have thought that caller was such a cheesy loser with a creepy voice!" She buried her face in Beca's neck in embarrassment.

"No!" Beca insisted. "Usually when I get a call like that I hang up in the middle of it and move on to the next caller as a joke but yours… yours felt so sincere, even if it was a bit cheesy, that I thought that whoever it was meant for should hear everything."

Chloe narrowed her eyes. "You're not just saying that now because you found out it was me, are you?"

"No, but I am now realizing that I've been underestimating the lengths you'll go to get what you want," said Beca, smirking with pride.

"Chloe's always had a one-track mind," Aubrey chimed in. "Even after that disaster, she didn't give up on trying to get you. In fact, I'm surprised it's taken this long for you guys to get pregnant, knowing how much she wants kids. I wouldn't be surprised if she casually scattered fertility pamphlets around the apartment."

Beca and Chloe exchanged glances. They hadn't talked about their future family plans ever since Chloe announced her career change, but one shared look was enough for them to silently agree to give it more time. Because, for the first time in a long while, they didn't feel the need to be in a hurry. After all, it was only six years ago that Chloe was confessing her love over the radio, and three years later they were married. And now they were celebrating three happy years of marriage while only in the mid-twenties.

They still had the rest of their lives together.

* * *

 **PRESENT - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA**

Beca sat in the silence Don had left her in for a long time. Her mind seemed to be in a state of constant buzzing that blocked her from thinking about anything too deeply. She couldn't focus on a single bit of news she had received that day, let alone the work in front of her.

Don's proposal to start a new label seemed far too up in the air to take seriously, but she knew from experience that this industry drove almost exclusively in the fast lane. She wouldn't be surprised if Don already had the business plan on hand before approaching her about it. It wasn't something she could shrug off and deal with when she crossed the bridge. Once word came out that Beca Mitchell was thinking of starting her own label (and word _was_ going to reach the media one way or another) there would be a lot of negotiations to work through.

And then there was Chloe.

Even almost two years after the divorce, Beca still didn't trust herself to be alone with thoughts of Chloe, so she grabbed her things and fled the office, telling her secretary that she was taking a half-day. While in the elevator, she sent a text to Jesse asking him to meet her at their favorite drinking spot. She was on the road long before rush hour traffic, so she ended up waiting for him at the bar while nursing a beer and playing a game on her phone.

"You know, just because I work from home doesn't mean I'm at your constant beck and call," Jesse greeted half an hour later, sliding into the stool beside Beca.

"Sorry," she shrugged, motioning the bartender to hand Jesse a drink, "but this is important. We're celebrating."

"Oh?"

Beca hesitated for a moment. "Don approached me about starting my own label."

Jesse's eyes widened. "Beca, that's incred—!"

"And Chloe wants to have a baby."

Jesse froze. Beca could see him calculating an appropriate response. Having been best friends for years, Beca knew she could always count on Jesse to give the right response to anything; whether it was to boost her confidence—like the many times in college he convinced her that she was good enough for Chloe—or to give her the harsh truth—like when facing the facts about her marriage, Jesse had always been good counsel.

"With you?" he asked carefully.

"Dude, no!" yelled Beca, then she lowered her voice. "Like, artificial insemination with a donor sperm." She found she liked how it sounded so clinical and indifferent. It was like just any other medical procedure.

"Oh. She told you?"

"Yeah, this morning after we taped our interview."

"Well, good for her, right?" Jesse kept his eyes on Beca's as he spoke.

"Of course!" she said, a little too defensively than she liked. "I'm happy for her. But, come on, is it so wrong for me to feel a little weird about it?"

"That depends. Why do you feel weird about it?"

Beca paused for a moment. "Good question. I don't know…" She thought about it. "Maybe because she told me first? Well, third, after her publicists. But still separately from all her other friends. That means something, right?"

Jesse seemed reluctant to commit. "Maybe… Did she say why?"

"I know why. It's because we used to be married. We used to plan these things together. It's just weird."

"Beca," Jesse said slowly, "you and Chloe haven't been married in almost two years. If it's weird that she's moving on by starting her own family, then… maybe you aren't completely over her?"

Beca looked at him with a critical expression. "We've been through this a thousand times, Jesse. I'm not hung up on Chloe. I don't want to get back together again. We have a healthy relationship now!" She noticed him purse his lips, as though he stopped himself from saying something. "What?" she prodded.

"Look, we didn't want to say anything because it seemed like you two were happy—"

"Sorry—'we?'"

"Aubrey and me," said Jesse. "I mean, we're together and you and Chloe are our best friends so we notice things you sometimes don't about each other."

Beca frowned. "Like what?"

Jesse sighed. "Your relationship isn't healthy, Becs. At least, it isn't _normal_. You two hang around each other constantly. You kiss and hug each other all the time—and more tenderly than is acceptable, I might add."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm close friends with my ex, it doesn't mean it's unhealthy. The kissing… we're just used to it, that's all. Chloe's very affectionate and I'm not going to give her the cold shoulder just because of a certificate saying we aren't married anymore. And I'm still living my own life—I have Ada, for Christ's sake!" she added, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

"Yeah, and that's what we thought, too," nodded Jesse. "You have Ada, so there's no reason for you to look for a relationship with Chloe. So we decided that as long as you both were happy despite being dangerously close to each other and despite _you_ having a girlfriend, we wouldn't say anything. But now Chlo's got this huge, exciting new part of her life coming up, and you're suddenly not happy. So I gotta say something."

"I am happy for her," Beca said firmly.

"But I think you're upset that this doesn't include you," Jesse said bluntly. "Maybe you're reminded of the plans you had with Chloe—together—and you're upset that they're now out of your control and she's moving on with them without you. I mean, did you really think she was going to stop wanting to have a baby?"

Beca clenched her jaw.

"But it's okay, Beca," Jesse continued calmly. "It's okay to feel that way. Heck, it's the most _normal_ thing to happen between the both of you! It's okay to admit that there's a little part of you that's still attached to her, and that part might be the idea of having a family with her."

Beca took a sip of her beer. It was a while before she spoke again. "We always kept that as our goal," she said distantly. "We thought we were getting closer and closer to it, but it turned out to be the other way around until… " She sighed. "After the divorce, I thought we both felt that having a family together was always going to be just a dream. But now…"

Jesse put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's gonna be okay," he assured. "You're just in shock right now, but once the news settles down you'll be able to see its goodness."

Beca nodded and smiled gratefully at Jesse. "Thanks, Jesse. Do you think… should I talk to Chloe about this, or would that classify as unhealthy?"

Jesse chuckled lightly. "I wouldn't know; you're the expert at unhealthy relationships with exes. Do whatever you want just…" A shadow of concern crossed her face. "Just don't shut her out if you realize you can't take her moving on without you. She needs us, all of us, maybe now more than ever. So just sack up and deal with it if you ever cross that bridge."

"Hey, whose best friend are you?" asked Beca, feigning hurt.

"Yours," grinned Jesse, "but as your best friend I promised you that I'd take care of Chloe no matter what. I've never broken that promise and I won't be starting now."

Beca gave him another grateful smile. "Do you think—what are you doing?" She got distracted by a glimpse of the screen on Jesse's phone displaying an all-caps text to Aubrey.

"Hey, I gotta take care of myself, too, Becs! Bree will kill me if she finds out I knew about Chloe and didn't immediately tell her," he said defensively, finishing up the text quickly and sending it.

"Dude! Violation of Chloe's privacy much?"

"You told me not an hour after she told you!" accused Jesse. "You were the one who violated her privacy. I'm just a consequence of your action."

Beca grabbed her own phone to send Chloe a preemptive apology.

"But now that we're on the topic of… celebrating new developments," Jesse began slowly after chugging the rest of his drink.

"Mm?" Beca looked up briefly from typing the message with her inconveniently tiny thumbs.

"Aubrey and I are moving in together."

Beca's head snapped up. "Dude! That's awesome! Congrats!" She punched his shoulder in congratulations.

"Yeah, she convinced her boss to get her a job nearby and—oh, look, I know I spilled the beans on Chloe's thing but _please_ , pretty please, don't tell Chloe. Aubrey really wants to be the one to break it to her. Something about an old college dream of theirs."

Beca made a show of considering it. "Fine, but you owe me one, Swanson. So is Aubrey moving in with you, or…?"

"We're going to be looking for a new place. I get the feeling she doesn't like my man cave that much." Jesse scratched his stubbly chin in confusion.

"And that feeling would be correct," said Beca. "So does this mean you're finally planning on getting a real job soon instead of that freelance stuff you're doing?"

Jesse let out a laugh. "Yeah, I guess I gotta start earning a living now. To show Bree I can be a man, you know?"

"Dude, if you haven't proven that you're a man yet, you've got more problems than I thought," Beca teased, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

 **Response to reviews:**

 **BallSoHard** (Jan. 11) - Thanks! Yeah, I was having a creative fit and was about to burst if I didn't update at least two chapters haha. A bit of a slow build this chapter (I think?) but let's see if it answers some of your questions. :)

 **lexa** (Jan. 12) - Thanks! I'll continue as best I can. :)

* * *

 **A/N:** Forgive me for the inconsistent timelines in this chapter. Present day Chloe skips ahead a few days (to Thursday, when Aubrey arrives) while Beca's picks up where she left off.


	4. (Don't) Hold Back

**Chapter Four:**

 **(Don't) Hold Back**

* * *

 **AUGUST 2018 - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA  
**

"Hey, you, I just left the office. I'm on my way to pick you up."

" _I sure hope not! If I'm not allowed to drive, then you're not allowed to be on the phone_ while _driving._ "

"I'm literally moving three inches a minute in this traffic and I even used Siri to call you," Beca said with a laugh. "Come on, stay with me. I'd rather listen to your voice than the crap on the radio."

" _Oh, and by 'crap' you mean the songs_ you _produce? One of which has climbed up to number ten on the Billboard Hot One-Hundred chart today?_ "

Beca's jaw dropped. "You knew?" she cried. "Dammit, I was going to surprise you!"

" _Of course I knew, dummy, I have you on Google alert,_ " giggled Chloe. _"I'm so proud of you, baby!"_

"Thanks." Beca's smile grew wider, as it did whenever she heard her wife say those words. "What d'you say we go out for dinner tonight?"

" _Sure thing! Hang on, Becs, I think they're look for me—_ "

"All right."

" _—I'll call you later!_ "

"See you soon."

* * *

Half an hour of rush hour traffic later, Beca was greeted with a kiss on the cheek after Chloe hurried into the passenger's seat of their old Honda Civic. Battling ferociously with the seatbelt, her wife grumbled, "Babe, now that you're earning the big bucks, could you maybe spring for a new car? I love your dad for giving us this one when we first moved but I think it's time for an upgrade."

Beca chuckled. "Yeah, probably… I mean, you'd need something flashier to ride in on your way to Toronto, huh?"

"Well, I think a plane would be—" Chloe stared at Beca for a beat. "Wait, you know?"

"You didn't think I wouldn't have _you_ on Google alert, too, did you?" smirked Beca, nodding toward her phone. "I don't know much about film festivals but I do know the Toronto one is pretty famous. Your movie must be a big deal if it's premiering there."

"First of all, it's not _my_ movie, it's my crazy, sweaty, loud director's movie. And he grew up in Toronto so it probably had something to do with that," said Chloe breathlessly. "You're coming with me, right?"

"Am I allowed to?"

"I don't see why not," shrugged Chloe. "I don't think I could even do it _without_ you. I need you there to calm me down in case I freak out over all the famous people."

"Sure thing, babe," smiled Beca. "I'll ask Don to clear my schedule. Too bad it's is still a month away, though. I actually have a couple of days free right now."

Chloe turned to her in ecstatic surprise. "Me, too!"

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Do you think—do you maybe want to take a vacation?" Chloe pulled on her seatbelt excitedly as she leaned over. "Let's go out of town. It's been months since we've had some alone time, just the two of us."

Beca perked up at the idea. She had been wanting some quiet time away from the hustle and bustle of Hollywood. "Heck, yeah! Do you have anything in mind?"

"I do, actually. I think you'll like it very much."

* * *

 **SOMEWHERE OFF THE BEATEN PATH**

Beca leaned heavily on her walking stick and swallowed. "You know," she panted, "when you said 'vacation' I thought white sand between our toes, gallons of sunblock, and lots of pun-definitely-intended sex on the beach."

Chloe laughed and pulled out a handkerchief to pat against Beca's face. "It's the end of summer, Becs; there would also be hundreds of people looking for the same thing. This," she gestured at the expanse of mountains and trees around them, "is the definition of _alone_."

"Yeah, that doesn't make me feel any better, Chloe! What if we get mauled by a bear? Shouldn't we be hiking with a ranger or something?"

"I asked but he's too busy trying to get his picnic basket back from Yogi Bear," giggled Chloe as she proceeded down a steep hill. "Come on! If we do get attacked by a bear, think of what a great story it'd be!"

Beca's face fell. "See, I don't know if you're joking or not!"

The descent kept going even after they had reached the end of the designated trail they had been following, and Beca wondered if they were already heading below sea level. She was just about to ask Chloe when they reached a thankfully flat clearing.

Beca's breath hitched at the sight of twin waterfalls cascading down a natural rock formation and into a glistening pool of the clearest water she had ever seen in her life. The sunlight reflected on its surface made the lake seem to sparkle with magic. Adding to that effect, birds twittered joyfully overhead while a faint rainbow arched across the falls. It was like a scene from a movie—a cartoon, even.

"Wow," she breathed.

"I thought you might like it," smirked Chloe, laying her backpack down by the lakeside. "One of our location scouts mentioned this place a while back. Only a handful of people know about it so we have it all to ourselves…"

Beca was too busy absorbing the beauty of this hidden gem to notice Chloe quietly slipping out of her clothes. Suddenly, a flash of perfectly tanned skin flew across her line of sight and disappeared into the blue-green water. She watched open-mouthed as Chloe swam to the middle of the lake before popping her head—and only her head—above water.

Chloe's hand broke through the surface slowly and its index finger curled inward, signaling Beca to come hither. The woman nearly tripped over her own feet in her hurry to do so.

* * *

"God, I missed this," sighed Chloe.

Beca tightened her arm around Chloe's waist and shuffled closer to kiss her wife on her shoulder, still slightly damp from their swim. "I think I'd remember going here and doing this before," she said lazily. "Because otherwise I never would've wanted to leave."

Chloe chuckled lightly. "You know what I mean," she said. "It feels like it did back in the day."

"'Back in the day?' C'mon, we're not _that_ old."

"But the past couple of months feels stretched out, don't you think? I almost can't remember what life was like before we came here."

"I guess I understand," said Beca, leaning across Chloe and grabbing a container of food from their bag. "It feels like everything going on in our lives has to do with work now. I can't remember the last time I did anything just for fun, like this."

"Exactly," nodded Chloe. "But the funny thing is, I don't seem to mind so much when I'm in the middle of it. Do you?"

Beca shook her head, her mouth full of salmon and broccoli tart. "Of course I miss having more time alone together, but you know me. I'm pretty simple. As long as I get to come home to you and wake up in bed next to you, I'm the happiest person alive. This is delicious by the way," she added, glancing down at the container of tarts.

"Thanks!" grinned Chloe, taking one. "I made it."

"Really?" Beca leaned back, impressed. "When did you learn how to cook?" It wasn't that Chloe _couldn't_ cook; it was just that her culinary repertoire ranged from store-bought mac and cheese to homemade mac and cheese.

"Hmm, around the time I started making my own lunch for work. You should let me pack you a lunch every day, too," she insisted. "I bet all you eat in your office is junk food."

"I prefer the term 'fast food,' thank you very much," said Beca, feigning offense. "Besides, I leave too early in the morning. I wouldn't want you to fuss over me."

" _Hey_." Chloe pulled Beca closer and kissed her fully on the lips. "You're my wife and if I want to fuss over you, there's nothing you can do about it, okay?" she said fiercely.

Her face inches from Chloe's, Beca couldn't seem to get her eyes off the redhead's lips. "Big talk for someone who can't wake before seven thirty."

Chloe huffed and pouted, further enticing Beca to kiss it away.

"But I get what you're saying," Beca continued, lowering herself onto the picnic blanket to get comfortable. "I didn't think there was anything I didn't already know about you, after being together for five years, but then I was surprised that you made us this food. I didn't realize you were learning to cook. Come to think of it, I don't actually know what's going on with you outside of your work anymore. It's getting easier to not spend time together, and that's... not good."

Chloe nodded solemnly. "What should we do? Do you think we should take more time off?"

Beca thought about it seriously. It was true that she was happy just to be with Chloe, but shouldn't it also be important that they spend meaningful time together? Not just going through the motions of everyday life, but be an actual married couple? But no matter how she framed it, Beca couldn't see it as a one or the other kind of thing. They could have it both ways.

But if they couldn't...

Beca looked into her wife's eyes. "You know I love you with every inch of my tiny body, right?"

"Yes," smiled Chloe, "which is more than I could ever ask for. I love you, too."

"And I'm so proud of you for everything you've accomplished—"

"I know, Becs. And I'm proud of you, too," Chloe cut in, raising an eyebrow at her wife's hesitance. "Spit it out, will ya?"

"I just feel like you're headed for more great things after this—I mean, honestly, your phone hasn't stopped vibrating since we left town," she gestured at Chloe's bag. "You're obviously really good at your job and, if you're really happy, I don't want you to feel like you should hold yourself back."

"Okay…" Chloe said slowly. "But I still don't think I get what you're trying to say."

"I'm saying the party's just getting started—for the both of us," said Beca. "I talked to Jesse and he said your movie is getting Oscar buzz, and you're definitely going to be in more projects soon—maybe big-budget movies that might take you out of state—or out of the country even. I say you ride the wave while it keeps coming."

"Even if it means spending _less_ time together?" frowned Chloe.

"I don't love the idea, but we've been through worse," Beca said reasonably. "Besides, weren't you the one who told me that when opportunity comes a-knockin' you don't send it away?"

Chloe forced a small smile and looked away. Beca instantly sensed what was wrong, and she draped her other arm around Chloe and hugged her tightly. "Don't take this to mean I _want_ some space from you," she said. "I just know you, Chloe Beale, and I know that if push comes to shove you'll do what you'll think is right. You'll do what you think you'll owe me."

"Of course, Beca, because you're my wife!" said Chloe, her eyes shining with indignation. "Every decision we make, we have to think about us as a couple—"

"I'm not saying that's not what we should do," Beca said quickly. "I'm just saying don't hold yourself back because of me. The very fact that we're married now just strengthens the argument, doesn't it? I will always be here for you, Chlo, so don't be afraid to take risks."

After a long and thoughtful pause, Chloe turned to Beca with a cocked head. "Why do you always assume I hold myself back for you?"

Beca blinked in surprise at the question; she thought it was obvious that Chloe was holding herself back, especially after their conversation about Chloe shifting careers. But her wife's tone was almost accusing, so she said strategically, "Babe, you intentionally failed Russian Lit _three times_."

Chloe's eyebrow and the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. She asked evenly, "You think I did that for you?"

Beca felt her ears get warm. Up until then, neither of them had dared question the real reason why Chloe stayed at Barden all those extra years, leaving Beca to make her own (admittedly self-important) assumptions about why.

"Well, if it really was to keep being a Bella, why did you choose to graduate when I did?" Beca chanced to ask. "You could have graduated any time before that, or any time after that."

"I thought seven was a nice, round number…"

"Chloe."

Chloe threw her hands up. "Okay, cat's out of the bag. It wasn't intentional. I really failed Russian Lit three times."

"But it was an elective, why take it over and over again?" challenged Beca.

"Well, maybe I'm just that dumb!"

Beca's playful smile instantly evaporated. "Hey." She cupped Chloe's face and she forced the two pairs of blue eyes to meet. "You are not dumb, okay?" she said firmly, almost angrily. She hated whenever Chloe put herself down—not just because she loved Chloe, but because the rest of the world suddenly felt shittier for making Chloe feel that way. "You're brilliant in your own way. Sure, you make mistakes but it's only because you think with your heart. It's what makes you the sweetest, most amazing person in the universe. It's why everyone loves you… and why I'm so happy to be the one you chose to love back. "

Chloe fought to hide her smile. She put on a mildly satisfied look and said, "I wasn't fishing, but the compliment is nevertheless appreciated."

Beca laughed. " _But_ ," she added with emphasis, raising her eyebrows warningly, "sometimes the downside to thinking with your heart is that your head doesn't get much say. And when that happens, I, as your wife, take it upon myself to speak on its behalf."

"And my head is saying?"

"Be ambitious!" declared Beca. "Be driven! You owe it to yourself to be excited about something outside of you and me."

"And you're okay with that?" Chloe asked curiously.

Beca felt a sudden déjà vu, as though she had had this conversation already. It only reinforced her desire to let Chloe be the free spirit she was meant to be. "Chloe, all I ever want is for you to be happy. And after three years of marriage I'm getting used to the idea that the ability to do that is not exclusively mine—though I hope I'm the only _person_ who could make you happy," Beca added with another warning glare.

"No one can even come close," Chloe assured her happily.

"Good. But in other aspects of your life, I'm willing to let others take the reign." Beca fished Chloe's vibrating phone out of her bag and handed it to her. "So go on. Take it."

Chloe glanced down at the phone, then back at her wife. "Thank you, Beca."

* * *

 **PRESENT - SOME BAR IN LA**

"Everyone, hey! Shut up and listen to me now. I think it's time for a toast!"

"Oh, Ada, you don't need to make a toast as an excuse to start drinking," joked Chloe. "We accept you for the booze hag that you are!"

"The toast was for you, you ungrateful bitch!" laughed the petite model. She hooked an arm around Chloe's neck playfully and raised her glass of scotch toward the center of the table. "For being the first of us to take a step toward actually becoming a responsible adult."

"Careful. The vein in Bree's forehead is about to pop," Beca chuckled against her own drink after they clinked glasses. "I don't think she's ever been indirectly called irresponsible in her life."

Aubrey rolled her eyes while Jesse came to his own defense. "Not to steal Chloe's thunder but Aubrey and I are moving in together. Isn't that a step towards responsible adulthood, too?"

"Jesus, finally!" yelled Ada, raising her glass for another round of cheers. "I mean, I've only really known you guys for one, two, thr... six months but, God, _pre-teens_ move faster than you. Have you two even had sex yet?"

"Ooh, don't pull at that thread," Beca stage-whispered.

The five friends laughed (though Jesse not as much), and their merriment contributed to the general noise of the bar.

Ada, Beca, and Chloe had learned (from many past mistakes) that hanging out at a low-key pub nobody knew about actually attracted more attention than a popular one at the heart of the city. Nearly every person active in the LA night scene was either trying to be famous or already was, and it was considered a faux pas to make a big deal out of seeing celebrities. And though they weren't of A-list status, the girls' collective popularity was enough to need a safeguard against unwanted invasions of their privacies.

"But seriously though, Chloe, congratulations," smiled Ada. "I'm so excited for you! I think motherhood will suit you very well."

"Thank you, Ades!" Chloe leaned over and hugged her friend. "I'm super excited, too. I can't believe this is finally happening."

"Whoa, slow down there, girl. You're not even pregnant yet," Aubrey pointed out.

"I know, but I feel like I already am, you know?" Chloe gushed. "The doctor's appointment was, like, _the_ moment for me."

Ada paused halfway through taking another sip. "Wait, you and Beca never got that far?"

The four froze at the question, but Chloe recovered the quickest. "Nope," she said, throwing Beca a small smile. "We never even looked for a doctor in LA, come to think of it."

"Oh…" Ada nodded. Thankfully for Beca, she didn't press on. "So, like, what did the doctor do? What did you find out?"

As Chloe went over the entire process and the results of her tests with Ada (and a surprisingly interested Jesse) Beca only pretended to listen. Ada's question reminded her of her conversation with Jesse the other day, and hearing her own girlfriend almost touch on the sensitive topic made her heart race.

"I didn't expect that you'd be so interested, Ades," commented Jesse, after Chloe finished telling them about her cycles. "Are you planning to have kids soo—?"

Beca felt something brush swiftly against her leg under their booth, and got the sneaking suspicion that Aubrey had just stomped on Jesse's foot.

"Nah, I'm not really into the whole family thing yet," shrugged Ada. "But, weirdly enough, I'm really into people I know having kids. Like, I love babies, but just for about five minutes, that way I can enjoy the benefits of their cuteness without any of the responsibility and stress of taking care of them."

"Remind me not to make you godmother," joked Chloe. Then she turned to Beca and frowned to see the brunette staring into space. "Becs?"

Beca blinked and refocused her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Is something bothering you?" asked Aubrey. Her eyes had never left Beca's since the conversation about Chloe's pregnancy began.

Beca took one look at Aubrey's calculating stare and shook her head. "I'm still stuck on that refresher on sex ed. Thanks, by the way, Chlo," she added sarcastically.

"Well, it's not like you need it anyway," winked Ada. When three fifths of the table raised their eyebrows, she added, "Because neither of us produces sperm? Hello? Get your minds out of the gutters!"

"Speaking of you two," Jesse began after the laughter died down, making Aubrey breathe through her nose sharply. "How are things going? Any plans for the future?"

Beca exchanged a quick, reassuring glance with her girlfriend before calmly responding, "Not really."

"Things are casual," said Ada.

"But, like, maybe a bit more than casual."

"Yeah, more than casual—like, between casual and whatever comes next."

"It's casual plus exclusivity."

"Bingo!" Ada high-fived Beca and pecked her on the lips. "Besides, neither of us is thinking of settling down, being busy with work and all."

Beca couldn't stand Aubrey burning holes into her head anymore so she excused herself to go to the bathroom. But since she never actually used public toilets (for sanitary reasons) all she did was wash her hands extra thoroughly with the lavender hand soap, while silently humming the Happy Birthday song.

Halfway through her second round of really rigorous hand-washing, she saw the door swing open through the mirror. Chloe entered tentatively, her cheeks slightly pink from the festivities. "I needed to pee," she announced unnecessarily. "Plus you left kind of weirdly so I thought, two birds one stone, y'know?"

Beca smiled lightly. "I'm fine, Chlo."

"Could you still talk anyway? I don't want you to hear me peeing," Chloe said as she got into a stall.

"I've heard you do much worse," sniggered Beca, resting her lower back against the marble sink as she waited for Chloe. Somehow, being alone in the bathroom with Chloe, speaking to her but not actually seeing her, gave Beca some courage to be honest. "Actually there is something that's, well, not really bothering me but something I'm curious about…"

"What is it?"

"Why did you tell me before everyone else?" Beca blurted out. "I mean before our friends. Why did you tell me first that you wanted to get pregnant?"

Her response from Chloe was only a brief moment of silence followed by the flush of a toilet. Beca watched the bathroom stall door open slowly, chewing the inside of her cheek nervously while Chloe stepped out wearing a thoughtful frown. "I don't know," she confessed slowly. "I think… I did it because I didn't want to upset you."

"It's not like you _weren't_ going to tell me," Beca pointed out. "You could have told me with the others. Like tonight."

"I don't know," repeated Chloe. "I thought I owed it to you. I thought you would be upset if you didn't know first—heck, you were upset that my publicist knew before you did!"

Beca rolled her eyes. "Because he's an idiot! But you also said you wanted to know what I thought," she recalled. "You wanted my opinion. Why?"

Chloe threw her hands up exasperatedly. "I don't know, Beca! I thought it was the right thing to do but clearly you're upset about it so I'm sorry—"

"I'm not upset. I just want to know why."

"Why I told you before I told Aubrey and Jesse and every other important person in my life? Jeez, do I have to spell it out for you?" Chloe shook her head and moved closer to Beca so she could wash her hands and lower her voice to a gentler register. "You're my… ex, Beca, but you're also one of my best friends. I don't know the rules involved in this type of relationship, but I just wanted to be safe in case you _would_ be upset that I just treated you like everyone else. I didn't think it would backfire like this."

"You wanted to know if I felt bad that you were moving on, didn't you?" accused Beca, her pride—and Jesse's words from the other day—getting the best of her. "Even though Ada and I are together, you think I still—"

"Beca, no! Of course not!" cried Chloe. She looked panicked and upset that this is the direction her news had taken. "That's not what I meant. I'm sorry, I just didn't know. I wasn't thinking. Maybe I'm—"

The bathroom door swung open once again, cutting Chloe's ramblings off, and Ada popped in. "Oh, hey," she smiled at the two of them. "You know, I went to the bar to pick up our tab but it turns out _someone else_ took care of it. Whaddaya know?"

"Well, it is my celebration," said Chloe, relaxing her stance and taking an inconspicuous step away from Beca. "It would be awfully rude of me not to have paid."

"Nothing about you could ever be awful, Chlo." Ada turned to Beca. "Babe, you said to tell you when the clock strikes eleven. Ding-dong, eleven's come and gone."

"Right." Beca put on a neutral expression. "Sorry, Chlo, we have to get going."

"But aren't we taking Chloe home?" Ada asked as they made their way back to the table together.

"Oh, no worries," Chloe said quickly. "I'll just get a ride with Bree and Jesse. I hope that's okay?" She added to the other couple.

"Of course," nodded Jesse.

They took another few minutes to say their goodbyes and set future plans before leaving the bar—thankfully without much fuss from the handful of paparazzi waiting outside—just before it started to get too crowded with overzealous young people.

* * *

 **DECEMBER 2018 - SOME BAR IN LA  
**

The bar was packed with inebriated and boisterous youths, hoping to either get laid or catch sight of a celebrity and buy them a drink, but that didn't dampen the small celebration happening in a booth at the corner of the respected establishment.

Jesse shook his head enviously. "Can you imagine, in a couple of weeks' time, I'm going to be friends with a Grammy and Oscar-winning Hollywood power couple!"

"I can't imagine that at all since literally neither of us is nominated for either of those awards," Beca pointed out.

"Yeah, but Don said the naming was only a technicality. The award is basically yours," argued Jesse. "And Variety called Chloe one of the worst snubs by the HFPA for not getting a Golden Globe nom, which pretty much guarantees that the Academy will take note."

Chloe shrugged indifferently, but they could all tell she was thrilled by the compliment. "The buzz has been exciting but I'm just glad people liked the work I did. Also, I wouldn't say we're a power couple; I don't think people even know that Beca and I are together. I mean, seriously, the number of times I've been hit on at work—"

"Wait, what—?" Beca dribbled beer down her chin.

"—and I keep turning them down. You'd think they'd get the picture by now."

"Don't you tell them you're married?" asked Jesse interestedly.

"I try to flaunt my wedding ring but it just sails over their heads. I think this means you should get me a bigger diamond," she added cheekily to her wife.

"Get it yourself," snorted Beca. "I'm not your suga mamma."

Jesse laughed. "Well, get ready to have your personal lives cracked open by the media soon," he warned Chloe. "When Don goes to the stage to pick up Beca's award and gives her credit for it, and when you win that Oscar, both of you will be put in the spotlight—and it's only a matter of time before people connect the dots."

Beca and Chloe exchanged skeptical looks. "Keep dreaming, dude," said Beca.

"Yeah, I doubt people would care that much about us," said Chloe.

"Are you kidding? Have you not heard of a thing called the Internet? Besides, doesn't your publicist thrive on this kind of stuff?" said Jesse. "Like, getting articles out there about your relationship to boost your publicity?"

"Um… Macy doesn't think that's the right move for me."

"Plus, isn't that kind of tacky?" added Beca. "I didn't think Chloe needed a publicist in the first place but I draw the line at stunts like that."

Jesse shrugged. "I guess I expected your lives would be more 'E! Hollywood' than this."

"Sorry to disappoint you then," Chloe said with a laugh.

"Hey, we don't know that it won't be," Jesse said, before raising his glass. "Now come on, let's toast to the Mitchells' continuing successes!"

After the glasses clinked, Beca moved in to kiss Chloe on the lips. When they broke apart, Chloe held Beca's face and kept her close. She whispered, "You don't mind that I go by Beale for work, do you?"

"As long as you come home as mine, I don't care what you're called," smirked Beca. They kissed again until they heard hooting coming from the bar. They looked up and saw a small group of tipsy and possibly underage boys bumping fists.

Beca rolled her eyes. "I guess it's that time of the night."

Jesse checked his watch. "Yup. Two AM. We should get outta here."

* * *

 **PRESENT - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA**

If Aubrey hadn't known Chloe for almost twelve years, no one in the car would have noticed that the redhead was a tiny bit more subdued than usual during the drive home. She answered Jesse's questions about work with her normal level of enthusiasm, but Aubrey detected a certain lack of heart in her best friend's tone ever since they left the bar.

Aubrey also knew that Chloe wouldn't speak openly with Jesse in the car if whatever was bothering her involved Beca, so, under the pretense of borrowing a book, she followed Chloe up to her apartment.

"So, what happened in the bathroom?" she asked the moment the elevator doors closed in front of them.

Like on countless occasions before, Chloe didn't wait a second before telling her best friend everything that had happened, from giving Beca the news after their interview taping to their consequent argument in the bar bathroom. One of the best things about Aubrey was that she restrained herself from reacting emotionally until she knew all the facts, so Chloe felt no apprehension sharing what Beca had accused her of doing.

"Wow. Okay." Aubrey took a deep breath and silently cursed Beca for being obtuse and confronting Chloe that way. "Do you… um… so, do you know _now_ why you did?"

Chloe unlocked the door to her apartment. "Beca is my ex-wife. We used to plan these things together. I thought I was being polite by acknowledging that, but apparently I was wrong," she answered truthfully.

She put her bag down on the kitchen island and sank into a stool. "I feel so bad! I didn't expect her to react that way... three days later," she added with a frown. "Her feelings must have stewed for a while."

"Well, try to look at it from her perspective," Aubrey said helpfully. "If Beca told you that, I don't' know, she and Ada got engaged—but she told _you_ first before anyone else. Don't you think that makes it seem like she wants to cushion the blow for you?"

Chloe nodded. "I guess, but isn't that a nice thing to do? Regardles of whether it was needed."

"But now imagine Beca doing that, but then you were _already_ married—in this hypothetical situation, of course."

Chloe's lips parted as she ahh-ed.

"See? From her point of view, it almost seems like you're giving her a window of opportunity to say something," said Aubrey, "which is kind of insulting given that she has a girlfriend. It's like you're assuming there's still something between you holding the window back from closing."

"Oh…"

Aubrey felt satisfied in helping her friend unravel her latest drama and was about to say goodnight when another possibility struck her. Normally her brain would have put the idea through her numerous world-class filters, but her gut was working overtime and kicked the question straight out of her mouth:

"Do you still have feelings for Beca?" Her tone was of genuine curiosity and not, like it was the first time she asked a similar question to this almost a decade ago, sharp and accusing.

"I do, yes."

Aubrey's eyes widened and she instinctively slammed a hand on the marble surface of the table to express her surprise. "WHAT?"

"Not in that way," Chloe dismissed calmly. "I'll always _love_ Beca. Love is a feeling, right? I think that's why I thought I should tell her—not because I wanted to give her a chance to change her mind, but because she means that much to me."

Aubrey looked confused. "I don't understand."

"Once you get to that point of loving someone, it's hard to erase everything and just go back to being friends," explained Chloe. "So you can only go forward, or in a different direction. We're past the 'married couple' kind of love. I'm past loving her as my wife. I know it doesn't make any sense—"

"Tch-yeah!" Aubrey almost yelled, still recovering from the—not really the discovery but the _confirmation_ that Chloe still loved Beca in a more-than-friends way.

"But it's just how things are," shrugged Chloe. "I don't want to go backwards, Bree. I love her and I love Ada, too. Beca's really happy with her, and I'm happy not being in a relationship," she added quickly, seeing the look on Aubrey's face. "I already told you that."

"Yes, but," Aubrey sighed, "are you sure you've thought it through? You still have your whole life ahead of you, Chlo—"

"I know and now I can look forward to a lifetime of loving someone I brought into the world," Chloe said sagaciously. "It's a much better use of my heart than looking for a partner, Bree. And there's no point in looking when I've already had the best."

* * *

 **Response to reviews:**

 **RJRMovieFan** (Jan. 14) - Thank you; I love how insightful your reviews are! It is quite a challenge, working with two timelines and planning out how to tie them together. I try to be as subtle as possible with the "past" so that the eventual breakup makes sense without the characters having to say it out loud with dialogue, but personally I'm more excited about the "present" timeline haha because it is when that realization occurs! :) Thanks again for your wonderful review.

 **BallSoHard** (Jan. 14) - I hope this chapter filled out a bit more of what Beca thinks about Chloe trying to get pregnant, and also stop your wondering: no, unfortunately, they weren't pregnant at their 3rd anniversary. Ada's first mention! Don't worry if you're a bit confused, her "origin story" will be in one of the "past" sections soon.

 **Psychic Guest** (Jan. 14) - Wow, three consecutive reviews? Talk about a combo hit! Thanks for checking this story out as well, it has a different tone (I guess?) from The Light. The flashbacks + present writing is fun to write, but a bother to plan ahead for, which is why updates for this may take a while. Haha! So you ship Jaubrey here? I would have incorporated them more but the focus is ideally on Bechloe, exploring concepts of marriage, love and relationships, and life in general. :) Thanks for the review!

 **surfingXgirl13** (Jan. 14) - I know it isn't much of a spoiler, given the title, but I still feel iffy saying it explicitly so... Beca and Chloe are not going to end up unhappy. That's my semi-vague way of answering your question haha. Thank you very much, I hope I don't disappoint. I'll try to update really soon!

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry for the two-week absence. If you're curious about Ada, know that the "past" timeline is catching up to her arrival. Thanks for reading, have a great weekend.


	5. On Marriage

**Chapter Five:**

 **On Marriage**

* * *

 **MARCH 2019 - BECA AND CHLOE'S APARTMENT, LA  
**

Jesse tapped the side of his glass with a spoon to get everyone's attention. The chattering gradually diminished as everyone reached around and across tables to grab his or her glass. Beca and Chloe's new apartment could now hold more than two guests at a time, so Jesse had taken it upon himself to invite more of their mutual friends to the big party.

"Let's everybody raise our glass," Jesse said grandly. He had grown his beard out so he now looked like a 16th century explorer celebrating the discovery of land. "To toast my _best_ friend—"

"Best?" Beca tilted her head doubtfully as a joke but Jesse continued as if he hadn't heard her.

"—Grammy-winning producer—"

"Not even close."

"—and now a future Grammy-winning _artist_ —"

"Doubtful—"

They heard a frantic jingling of keys, followed by the front door opening quickly and slamming shut. Chloe came in, wide-eyed and looking harried. She turned pink when she realized that she had interrupted a speech and was the new center of attention. "Sorry I'm late," she apologized quickly, moving past a row of their friends and co-workers to get to her wife. "I'm sorry, baby," she added, pecking Beca on the cheek.

"Chloe, everyone waited over an hour for you," said Beca, being careful to keep her tone unaccusing but forceful at the same time. It was difficult since Chloe rarely gave her reason to do it.

Chloe pursed her lips guiltily and nodded. She turned to face their guests and apologized again, ushering Jesse to continue his toast before ducking into the kitchen to get herself a drink and a breath of fresher air. There would be time to congratulate Beca later.

"Is everything okay?"

Chloe jumped in surprise, not noticing that someone had followed her in. "Bree!" she gasped before shaking herself out of the shock and walking over to give her best friend a hug. "You're here!"

Aubrey raised a blonde, perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Of course I'm here. Jesse has been planning this party for over a week. You know, he really didn't want to start it without you, but I had to insist… which begs the question, where _were_ you?"

Chloe lowered her head. "I couldn't get away from set…"

Aubrey sighed in disappointment. Though she knew her best friend was being honest, she also knew that if she had been really determined to leave, she could have. "It's one night, Chloe. You've been working fourteen-hour days the past two weeks, you could have taken _one_ night off—"

"I know, I _know_ ," Chloe groaned, running a hand through her hair. "I know what I'm doing wrong, and I know I'm being a horrible wife—"

"No, you're not," interrupted Beca, appearing at the kitchen doorway. Aubrey muttered something about giving them space and left.

Chloe was afraid to meet Beca's eyes at first. But when, rather than shielding her from what she expected to be a painful glare, avoiding Beca's eyes instead filled Chloe with stomach-twisting guilt, she succumbed to an intense desire to look back up.

Chloe had known, within moments of their first meeting at Barden's quad, that the reason Beca wore so much eye makeup back then was to mask the so-called windows to her soul. Beca didn't want anyone knowing, or seeing, her emotions laid bare through her eyes, so she had framed them in black to distract focus. And although Beca loved teasing Chloe about her easily readable baby blues, once you've cracked the Beca Mitchell code, it became just as easy to decipher her own deep blues.

And right now, Chloe was looking at a curious mix of stern, indignant, and consoling eyes.

"Beca, I'm so sorry," Chloe said quietly. "This is your big night and I was so selfish I couldn't get away from work to be with you."

Beca shook her head. "Being a hard worker doesn't mean you're selfish. I'm not mad about that, Chloe."

"But you _are_ mad at me?"

"No…" Beca took a deep breath. "It's just that I barely see you these days, and when I do I always feel like I'm on a time limit. Look, I know I have no right to complain, I told you to go after this—and, heck, _I_ was gone a lot, too, when we first moved here." She moved closer to Chloe and reached for her hand. "But back then it was just to get us on our feet… I guess I just thought, now that your career has taken off you'd have more control over your time."

"I thought so, too," Chloe nodded sadly. She wasn't oblivious to how fast things had gone for her in the past few weeks. But there was just no way to control it. "I'm glad filming didn't take me too far away from you, but I've been taking advantage of that. I promise to be home more."

Beca gave her a small smile, nodded, and she thought that was the end of it.

"But, Beca, I hope you understand that this is the cost of what I chose to do for a living… and that pretty soon it's going to be the same for you. Maybe even worse."

Beca blinked. Usually their fights (which have become fewer and farther between since they began dating) ended in either of two ways: aggressive sex, or promising to do better and then hugging it out—occasionally with the bonus of eventually ending in the former anyway.

It never ended with a warning before.

"Well then," Beca said softly. "Let's go celebrate before it does."

She meant it as a joke but they were both thinking the same thing: a storm was coming and they could do absolutely nothing but bear it until it passed.

* * *

 **PRESENT - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA**

Aubrey had barely swung her right leg inside the car when Jesse asked, "What did Beca say to her in the washroom earlier?" He was leaning with his elbow on the steering wheel and his head resting on his knuckles expectantly.

"What do you—?"

"Babe, don't even—" Jesse lifted his head and put his hand up, accidentally jabbing the horn with his elbow and causing them both to jump in surprise. "Oops…. Anyway, you went up there to borrow a book and you came back empty-handed."

Aubrey smacked herself on the forehead. "Come on, Posen, get your head in the game!"

"You know, when it comes to secrets, your boyfriend places _above_ your best friend," Jesse said humorously, raising one hand, palm-down, level with his chin while extending his other hand exaggeratedly over his head. "Besides, we're in this together, remember? Together forever."

Aubrey couldn't hold back her smile and just sighed. "Fine."

Jesse pumped his fist and turned the ignition, and they began their drive back to his apartment while Aubrey filled him in on what happened—and what must have happened—in that washroom.

"So I _was_ right about Beca fixating on being told first," mused Jesse. "Although I gotta say, babe, your technique? Talk about _blunt_. Why the hell would you go and put visions of Beca and Ada getting engaged in Chloe's head? Especially when you kicked _me_ for asking how their relationship was going," he added with a pout.

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "This was different; Beca wasn't in _this_ conversation. When it comes to Chloe, being blunt gets results but it's safer to keep Beca oblivious to everything around her. Besides, if I hadn't been blunt, we wouldn't have learned new information."

"What new information? That Chloe loves Beca but not in a romantic way? We knew that already," Jesse pointed out. "We're back to… actually, we haven't even _moved_ from square one."

"I disagree," said Aubrey, shaking her head. "I think we're getting closer to the bottom of this now that Chloe's getting pregnant."

Even years after the divorce, Aubrey and Jesse were still trying to piece together what had happened between their two best friends. Despite nearly constant communication with their counterparts, Aubrey and Jesse didn't really know much about the specific details of the divorce—other than two things.

"All we know for sure is that it was _Chloe_ who served the papers, and that it was on the grounds of irreconcilable differences," said Jesse, counting them on his fingers.

"And that it was finalized in less than six months," added Aubrey, holding up three fingers. "A friend I made at the courthouse worked on their case."

"Okay, but why does that matter that it took less than six months?"

"Because it means there was no conflict. Everything must have all been agreed upon if it sailed smoothly under California's waiting period," explained Aubrey. "This wasn't a sudden, rash decision to break up. They must have been talking about it for months before they told us."

Jesse paused thoughtfully. The divorce had come as a shock to everyone who knew the couple personally, but the strange weeks that followed the announcement made it difficult to piece together what truly happened. "Come to think of it, they didn't exactly look that upset when they told us… Jesus, how long do you think they hid it from us?"

"I don't know, but that's not my concern exactly." Aubrey's eyes flashed from the headlights of cars going the other way. "I'm thinking maybe Chloe took the fall for Beca, making it seem like _she's_ the one who really wanted the divorce in the first place, so that Beca wouldn't look like the bad guy."

"Whoa, that's a little far-fetched, don't you think?" frowned Jesse, a little prickled that his best friend's honor was being questioned. "As far as we knew at the time, Chloe was the center of Beca's universe. She wouldn't do anything to hurt her."

Aubrey shook her head. "I'm not saying she did." She paused for effect. "I think our theory that Beca didn't want to have kids anymore is shaping up to be the culprit."

Jesse puffed in disbelief. "We already debunked that, remember? If that were the reason, then Chloe would have gotten pregnant as soon as things were settled, but she didn't. She buried herself in her work just like Beca did. Just like they _both_ did when they had to postpone having a baby in the first place."

"Maybe Chloe's financial situation changed when she became single again and she needed a couple more months to prepare. Or what if Chloe wanted _Beca_ to carry and Beca refused?" When Jesse still looked unconvinced, Aubrey explained her reasoning further. "Chloe said that she was done with relationships altogether because she's already had 'the best.' Why would she break off what she thought was such a perfect relationship? The answer: a baby."

* * *

 **MARCH 2019 - BECA AND CHLOE'S APARTMENT, LA  
**

After the guests had left the party, Beca helped Jesse with cleaning up the trash while Chloe was with Aubrey in the kitchen washing the dishes.

"Hey, Becs?" Jesse called casually. He was convinced, after seeing Beca and Chloe emerge hand in hand from the kitchen earlier, that whatever tension there was between his favorite married couple had dissipated before his intervention was needed.

"Mhm?"

… So he decided to move on to a new, hopefully catalyzing, topic.

"Your place is kinda quiet, don't you think?"

"You want me to put on some music or something?"

"Not what I had in mind," Jesse grinned slyly. "I was thinking more like… the screaming cry of a baby?"

Beca raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Chloe and I haven't talked about that in… almost a year," she said honestly.

Jesse knew that. "Why not now then?"

"Are you kidding?" Beca scoffed. "There couldn't be a worse time. Chloe works 'round the clock and I'm about to start work on my first album. The only way you'd hear the sound of a crying baby in this apartment is if we rented it out to a daycare during the day."

"But you guys have wanted this for so long," said Aubrey, having the same conversation with Chloe in the kitchen. "I'm surprised you haven't talked about it in months."

Chloe bit her lip. "I still _think_ about it sometimes, but there's really no way it could work at this point," she said with a sigh. "We're both too busy and it's only going to get worse now that Beca's signed. I don't want that type of environment for starting my family."

"Have you talked to Beca about it?"

"I mentioned the possibility of us having less time to spend together, but nothing about a baby. It's getting kind of hard to bring it up without mentioning work. And I don't want to blame work; that wouldn't be fair to either of us." Chloe shook her head and said, more to convince herself than her best friend, "It's just another hurdle, Bree. We'll get there someday."

"But how long are either of you willing to hold it off?"

"Bree, having a baby is not my sole purpose in life!" Chloe burst out, half in frustration and half in laughter. She peeled off the rubber gloves and leaned against the counter, wiping her hands on a napkin. "I know that's ironic coming from me, but right now… starting a family is _not_ my priority. I'm excited about where our lives are going right now—it's tough as hell but I am genuinely excited about it. And there _will_ be time for our family later, I'll make sure of that," she added determinedly.

"I hear what you're saying, Chloe," Aubrey said patiently. "But what about Beca? Where does she stand?"

"The thought of having a kid was exciting, like, two, three years ago," reflected Beca, tossing the empty soda can and missing the black garbage bag by a few feet. "And I'm not saying I wouldn't be happy to have one… but things are different now. I thought it would be easier when we could finally afford to raise one properly but there were more…" Beca furrowed her brow as she thought of the right word, "more _hurdles_ the further we got. Suddenly it's not so much exciting as it is," she bit her tongue, hating the way it tasted to say, "just not the right time to slow down, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," sighed Jesse. "I wouldn't want my godchild being raised in studios or on location."

"Oh, Chloe would _never_ let that happen," chuckled Beca. "She'd want to be around our baby constantly. She'd have to lay off work for a _long_ time."

"And that would ruin the momentum she got after the Oscars," Jesse nodded understandingly.

Jesse had successfully predicted that the Academy would take notice of Chloe's performance after numerous publications denounced the HFPA for snubbing her. As a result, Chloe _had_ earned a nomination for Best Supporting Actress earlier that year. Ultimately, she lost to a seasoned actress, but the spotlight never left her. She was signed to over half a dozen projects, big and small, soon after.

Beca and Chloe had been doubtful of everything Jesse had said that night at the bar, but he even got the part about Don giving Beca credit for the Grammy win partially right. It wasn't during an on-stage speech in front of millions of viewers that he credited her, but all throughout the interviews afterward. In fact, the constant mention of 'Beca Mitchell' and the recognition from artists who had collaborated with her were the reasons Beca got fast-tracked to imminent stardom.

Beca began to wonder if Jesse could be right about their personal lives soon being under public scrutiny when her thoughts were suddenly distracted by Jesse's latest narrative:

"You know, if your life was one of those predictable movies you hate so much, Chloe would give up her career to raise the baby while your career skyrockets," he said amusedly. "Then you guys drift apart, with Chloe finding solace in a more-than-friendly single-parent from daycare while you travel the globe DJ-ing at parties and getting dangerously close to having anonymous sex with an overenthusiastic groupie—"

"Dude, what are you doing?" Beca threw another empty can at his head and, luckily, it hit.

"We were making fun of predictable movies!" he defended sincerely. "You know, typical movie tropes? This is practically a Nicholas Sparks novel in the making."

"Yeah, well… stop doing that," grumbled Beca.

"Don't worry, Becs, I know you guys are stronger than that," Jesse said confidently. "You got through the Spring Break Disaster of 2014 after all."

Beca gave a small shrug.

Jesse had a point. She and Chloe were—almost famously—very secure about their love for each other. Admittedly, it was only secured after the sixteenth fight in their first two years of dating over who 'that girl' or 'that guy' was. After that last—and biggest—fight in the spring of junior year, though, neither of them had ever worried about the other's fidelity anymore, and when they got over that, everything seemed to fall into place.

There was no one on earth Beca could have loved more than she loved Chloe.

* * *

 **PRESENT - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA**

Ada had just finished fighting Beca over who got to pick the first song in the car and was now slapping her thighs victoriously to the beat of One Direction's Greatest Hits. Beca shook her head in amusement and shifted the gear into neutral while they were stopped at a red light.

"So what were you and Chloe fighting about in the restroom?" Ada asked casually, still bobbing her head to the beat.

Beca turned head and frowned.

"I heard raised voices before I opened the door. It sounded like you were arguing."

"We weren't." Beca kept it short and simple to buy herself time to wiggle out of the conversation, but she wasn't expecting the equally short and simple "Okay" from her girlfriend in reply.

After a pause, wherein the light had turned green and the car started rolling forward again, a rush of self-destructive behavior possessed Beca into saying, "That's it? Aren't you going to ask me if it had anything to do with Chloe's announcement?"

Beca saw Ada shrug out of the corner of her eye. "It's not hard to guess how you're feeling," the model said. "I just didn't want to bring it up in case it'd upset you. And knowing you, I'm pretty sure it already upset you the first time you were told."

"Oh." Beca didn't know why but she felt the need to apologize. "Sorry."

Ada shook her head. "Jeez, don't apologize. I knew what I was getting into when I started to date someone I got introduced to by a mutual friend who also happened to be her ex-wife." She grinned at Beca. "I mean, I'm all for unorthodox relationships but even that raised some flags."

Beca chuckled awkwardly. "You understand that this doesn't mean I still have feelings for her, right? I mean I'm not upset that she's moving on or anything—"

"Relax, Becs," said Ada. "You're forgetting that I knew Chloe before I met you. I know how special she is and to have lost someone like her but still be constantly near her… now that takes balls. I really admire that about you."

Beca shot her a sideways glance to do a quick sarcasm check.

"I'm being serious, you ass," laughed Ada.

Beca felt a sudden rush of gratitude toward her. It was so easy to talk to Ada; painless and uncomplicated, without having to sacrifice its meaningfulness.

It was a sort of relationship that post-divorce Beca would never have imagined getting into. Heck, she remembered how, barely a minute after moving out of her old home with Chloe, she had already written off the idea of relationships _altogether_ for the second time in her life, and buried herself in her work. It was, according to Jesse, textbook behavior.

Then came Ada, an unexpected breath of fresh air. Her sarcasm and dry humor sucked Beca into a fast friendship and, soon after, Ada's spontaneity and playful mischief charmed her into something more. Ada had such an open-minded and carefree outlook on life that Beca sorely needed at the time and Ada successfully pried her open from her post-divorce shell.

Ada saw the change in Beca's expression from indignant to amusement to a sort of goofy far-away one, and raised an eyebrow. "You're not about to say 'I love you,' are you?" she teased.

Beca laughed and hit back with, "After seven months of intermittent dating? What am I, a loser?"

Ada couldn't have looked more pleased with her answer. "Apparently you're worse 'cause I know _for a fact_ that you told Chloe you loved her before you were even officially dating! Oh, my God—you're a _super loser_!"

Beca scowled as Ada cackled in her seat. "Remind me to keep you away from Chloe and her stories," she grumbled. "Besides, that's not fair—I had different paths leading up to you and Chloe."

"I guess that's true," agreed Ada, looking out the window thoughtfully. "Now… how about tonight you take the path that leads up to my bedroom?"

"Subtle," smirked Beca.

"Couldn't take any chances," shrugged Ada. "I'm leaving for Cabo tomorrow. I'll be gone for about four days."

"Oh. I didn't, uh… okay then." Beca frowned at the last-minute news of Ada's prolonged absence but she understood that moments like these were to be expected when dating a model.

She didn't notice Ada scrutinizing her.

"Can I say something that might potentially ruin my chances of getting any action tonight?"

Beca looked apprehensive but gave her a nod anyway.

"You always get like this after we hang out with Chloe," observed Ada. Foreseeing Beca's confusion, she furthered, "You get all relationship-y."

"What?" Beca laughed.

"You get kinda clingy. Be honest, you were upset that I didn't tell you I was leaving, weren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but for _logistical_ reasons," she mumbled. "I like to know when I can and can't see my girlfriend for some sexy times."

"If you say so," smirked Ada. "But you were also about to say 'I love you' for the _first_ time tonight. After _seven months_ of dating."

"But you just said—!"

"Seven months is a _long_ time, Becs." Ada was not upset. As always, her tone was teasing, trying to see how far she could tug at the strings before things either came apart or tugged back.

"I thought so, too," defended Beca. "But you made me sound so… _loserly_ for almost saying it."

Ada chuckled heartily. "Aw, you know how much I enjoy messing with you."

"Yeah, but what does this have to do with Chloe?" asked Beca, still confused about Ada's line of questioning. "Was that another way to mess with me? 'Cause I think that's bordering on emotional abuse—"

"No, no," laughed Ada. "I just thought it was interesting how you seem to think more deeply about our relationship after being around her."

Beca couldn't tell from Ada's tone how she really felt about what she just said. Ada had a knack for masking her feelings with a constantly upbeat and pleasant tone. It was sometimes a good thing—like when she had Ada listen to a new song she was working on and Beca needed a shameless confidence boost—but when it came to this topic it was a little disconcerting.

"Does that upset you?" Beca asked tentatively.

Ada hummed to indicate she was thinking about it. "No," she decided. "I like to think it's because seeing her reminds you of how you lost her and how you _could_ lose me. And it makes you want to do better."

Beca didn't know how to respond to that. A part of her brain was working on finding the truth in those words; another part was wondering if Ada was hinting at something else. It was one of those relationship minefields she had very little experience crossing without something eventually blowing up. But, still, with Ada it felt like she was being guided by her voice. Her upbeat and pleasant voice.

"I do want things to work out between us," Beca said sincerely. "But you're kinda hard to read, you know? I can't really tell if I'm doing the right thing sometimes… most of the time," she corrected.

They had arrived at Ada's apartment building but Beca felt they should remain in the car. They rarely had conversations like this so she relished the opportunity. Somewhere at the back of her mind she was applauding herself for how far she had come from her angst-ridden teenage self.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry," said Ada. "I guess I played the 'casual' card too strongly. It's just that, when we first met, everything about you was intimidating as hell. You were this aloof, hit recording artist and music producer—not to mention the whole thing you had with Chloe. Keeping things casual seemed like the right thing to do so I did everything to make it seem like I wasn't taking things _too_ seriously."

Beca nodded understandingly. "I get it. I don't exactly come with the lightest baggage," she sighed. "So where exactly does that leave us? Do you… want to take things seriously now?"

"I'm glad you asked, babe. I've actually thought about this already." Ada perked up excitedly. "Are you ready?"

Beca raised her eyebrows in amusement. "Hit me."

"We are _in a relationship_ ," Ada announced proudly, tracing an arc in the air with her hands as though presenting a novel concept.

Beca opened her mouth, ready with a sarcastic comeback, but then she realized that she understood precisely what Ada meant. They were going from 'dating exclusively' to 'being in a relationship,' which—though probably unclear to most people—meant they were on a mutual path to a distant yet decidedly distinct future.

"That way we're obliged to tell each other our schedules and such," continued Ada, gesturing between them. "And also that we're allowed to get jealous and the other has to make up for it by submitting to really rough and possessive sex afterwards."

Beca's ears turned red, unnoticeable in the dim lighting of the car. "So this was all about opening up more sexual fantasies for you, huh?"

"That's just one of the perks…" Ada unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of Beca's car. Before shutting the door she leaned down, deliberately exposing a generous amount of cleavage, and said, "So was that a 'no' then on the invite or…?"

Beca blinked slowly and switched off the engine.

* * *

 **MARCH 2019 - BECA AND CHLOE'S APARTMENT, LA**

Jesse had volunteered to take the trash to the chute, leaving Beca in the silence of the living room, thinking about the future as she wiped the coffee table down. Suddenly her eye caught a photo of the four of them—Beca, Chloe, Aubrey, and Jesse—at the Santa Monica pier. A few inches from that photo was one of the Bellas after they first moved into the Bella House. (Sadly, most of the girls hadn't been able to go to Beca's celebratory party since they were all busy, scattered around the country.)

Beca took a moment to appreciate her friends, the unexpected group of misfits that she learned to love and trust—from the controlling, stress-vomiting Aubrey Posen to the real-life angel Emily Junk—and she suddenly remembered something her father-in-law told her years ago.

"Dude, I have an idea," she announced when Jesse reentered the apartment. She stepped around the coffee table and grabbed two clean glasses at the minibar. Jesse watched curiously as she poured them both a drink. "I know you were bummed that you didn't get to be my best man at our wedding—"

"Tch-yeah!"

A vision of Aubrey using that same expression flitted through Beca's mind. _Couples really do start to look alike_ , she figured.

"So let's make it official," she continued, handing him his glass and raising hers. But then she realized that she had no idea how these things went. "Uh, I guess I appoint you, Jesse Swanson, to be my retroactive best man?"

"Cheers!" Jesse said gleefully, clinking their glasses together and taking a sip. He lowered the glass and narrowed his eyes at her. "A little cheesy coming from you though… which obviously means you want something."

Beca's lips curved against the rim of her glass.

"But since we're way past a bachelorette party at this point," continued Jesse, tilting his head curiously, "what is it?"

Beca gave a quick check behind her to make sure Chloe was still in the kitchen. "I just remembered some things. That day at the courthouse, when I was about to marry Chloe… it was just me, alone, in the washroom getting ready to look, well, at least five percent more presentable than usual to my future wife."

Jesse smiled warmly. Hearing Beca marvel over her wife was as adorable as it was common. At times it was hard to imagine the dry and sarcastic seventeen-year-old he had first met moving into the college dorms displaying such heartfelt emotion about someone she would have found insufferably cheerful, but at other times it was even harder to imagine Beca _not_ being completely head over heels for Chloe.

Beca continued reflectively. "I was just staring at myself in the mirror for, like, the longest time... I didn't have anyone to give me a pep talk, no one to ask if I was nervous or anything—stuff the best man or maid of honor would normally do, right?"

Jesse nodded.

"And I never told anyone this—not even Chloe, I think—but the face staring back at me was scared shitless. No, I wasn't getting cold feet," she said quickly in response to Jesse's look of intrigue. "I was just scared of the future. I love Chloe with every fiber of my being and I know she loves me, but what if that wasn't enough to make her happy? I couldn't bear to disappoint her, to fall short of giving her the perfect life she deserved.

"But, as cliché as it sounds, when I entered the room and saw Chloe talking to the judge—she looked at me, and she was so calm and beautiful and… _excited_. Everything just melted away." Beca smiled and she felt warmed up by the memory. "And as I walked down the—whatever, small-ish kind of aisle? I kind of regretted not celebrating this amazing moment with all you guys. Then just now I realized that I didn't take something Chloe's dad said to me seriously after he asked why we wanted to elope instead of having a wedding:

"He said that the point of inviting friends to your wedding is to include them in a part of your marriage. The wedding forms a sort of community of people who celebrate the beginning of a new family." Beca stared off into the distance, trying to recall the words of Chloe's wise old man. "And every member of that community—every guest at the wedding—in a way, has a role in helping that new family. I think he was saying that when our marriage gets tough, we can depend on the people closest to us to help us get through it."

"Of course you can, Becs," Jesse said sincerely. "Best man or not, I'm always here for you guys. We're _all_ here for you."

"I know you are." Beca gave him a grateful smile, hoping that it would make her confession much easier to hear. "And I'm grateful for that because tonight, for the first time since the day I married her… I'm scared of my future with Chloe. But this time when I look at her," she swallowed, "I don't feel _less_ afraid. I feel like she might just be as scared as I am."

"Beca…" Jesse put down his glass, readying to comfort his friend.

But Beca didn't need it. She may be scared but she at least knew what to do. "Whatever's coming is bigger than Chloe and me, and we're going to need our friends. You've always been there for me, Jess, but I need you to be there for Chloe, too, even when I can't be."

"Don't worry, Becs. I'll take care of her, I promise."

* * *

 **PRESENT - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA**

Jesse hummed thoughtfully. Aubrey made a reasonable point but, even though Beca had always brushed the topic off whenever he asked, changing her mind about kids just didn't fit with what he knew of his best friend. Unfortunately, he was also well aware of Beca's tendencies to get sucked into work so it made sense that the further she got professionally, the less time she devoted to her own personal life.

 _But enough to stop wanting a family with the love of her life?_ He thought back to when Beca first found out about Chloe's news and made a brilliant realization—

"Wait, no," he said excitedly. "Beca said that having a family ' _became_ ' a dream or something _after_ the divorce. She wouldn't say that if her not wanting kids was the reason they _got_ divorced."

"Damn, you're right," Aubrey said, running a hand exasperatedly through her hair. "Why is it so hard to figure these two out? I mean, we've ruled out infidelity, we've ruled out your outrageous suggestion that they might be _related_ —"

"Outrageous? I think you mispronounced 'clever.'"

"—what else could pass as grounds for divorce?" she cried desperately.

Jesse half laughed and half sighed in exasperation. "We didn't exactly pick the easiest people to be best man and maid of honor to, did we?"

Aubrey leaned sideways and rested her head on Jesse's shoulder tiredly. All their hypothesizing had used up her remaining active brain cells for the night. "Technically we already failed as best man and maid of honor," she reminded him. "They already got divorced right under our noses."

"Oh, right. As best friends, then," he corrected.

Keeping his left hand on the steering wheel, Jesse wrapped his free arm around Aubrey's shoulder affectionately. They stayed that way for a while, cruising along the streets that led home.

"Do you think we're failing at that, too?" Jesse asked suddenly, his voice soft in case Aubrey had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Aubrey sat up slowly, adjusting herself to get comfortable. "What do you mean?"

"Are we too blind to see that our friends have been hurting all this time?" he said thoughtfully. "Should we have done something already?"

"It wasn't our place to interfere with the divorce," Aubrey said gently.

"Wasn't it though?" Jesse asked sadly, remembering what Beca had told her about friends at weddings. "If they were having problems with each other, shouldn't we have talked them through it?"

Aubrey was thoughtfully silent for a while. "You know me better than anyone in the world, love, so you know how much I hate being wrong. A part of me agrees with you and says that we failed, but a stronger part of me is saying we did all that what we could: we talked to them and gave them our support. In the end, it was their decision.

"I think," she paused, "something big is about to happen soon and hurting might not be such a bad thing if it gets them to start healing for real this time. God knows they've been avoiding dealing with hurt for years."

* * *

 **MARCH 2019 - BECA AND CHLOE'S APARTMENT, LA  
**

Beca and Chloe waved goodbye to their best friends as they left, bringing with them promises to catch up again soon. Aubrey had already marked her calendar for a roughly planned trip to Mexico in the summer.

Beca closed the door behind her and stood face to face with her wife. She hated how the silence seemed to grate almost painfully against her ear canal.

Chloe looked equally uncomfortable. "I'm guessing we still have to talk about some things, huh?" she said, reading Beca's look.

Beca thought back to the evening and to her conversations with Chloe and Jesse. She also thought back to her ominous confession and decided to look once more into Chloe's eyes to see what she would find.

Did it really matter that there were flecks of worry and apprehension in Chloe's eyes, she weighed, when underneath it all still lay the same unwavering love and devotion that were there that day at the courthouse?

Beca lifted her hand and tucked a loose strand of Chloe's hair behind her ear. Chloe visibly relaxed at the touch and let her eyelids droop slowly as she leaned into it. A small, contented smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"No," Beca answered both questions softly, rubbing her thumb gently against Chloe's cheek. "Well, except—I have to say I'm sorry."

Chloe did her best to look confused with Beca's hand still wonderfully caressing the side of her face. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Beca chuckled mirthlessly. "I keep flip-flopping on you, telling you to follow your dreams and be aggressive, but then I get mad at you for showing up late for a dinner."

"So you _were_ mad," said Chloe with a playful smirk.

Beca returned the smirk and lowered her hand down to Chloe's waist to pull her closer. She loved how easy it was to get back to normal with Chloe; how no matter what happened between them it always just boiled down to love. No matter what, they were going to be okay. "I _was_ mad," she said just as playfully while trying to sound angry, "because I wanted to have you all to myself before the stupid party—"

"I'll be sure to write that in your thank you note to Jesse." Chloe put her hand on Beca's chest and unknowingly ignited a spark in her wife.

"I wanted you," Beca repeated in a low voice, her eyes flashing dangerously to send a message. "You kept me waiting."

"Oh. Well…" Chloe further closed the already minimal space between them and slid her hand down to trace a line up Beca's navel and around the underside of her breast with her finger. "I'm here now."

Seeing that the blue in Chloe's eyes had given way completely to desire, Beca reached in for the much-awaited attack. But then Chloe leaned back, restraining Beca's lips with a teasing finger. "Are you sure there's _nothing_ you'd like to talk about first?" she asked innocently, the fingers on her other hand graduating from over-the-shirt action to feeling the warm skin on Beca's stomach on their way up and up…

Beca swallowed and shook her head. It was ridiculous how Chloe was still able to get her tongue all tied after all this time. Beca thought she should start building up resistance to it. "No, we're good," she rambled. "We're always good, remember? Ever since the Spring Break Disaster of 2014—"

Chloe leaned even farther back and raised an eyebrow. " _Really?_ You had to mention _that_ right before I was going to let you tie me up and punish me for—"

With a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan, Beca's metaphorical floodgates burst at the image of Chloe tied up and she grabbed her by the waist and pressed her lips against hers hungrily while guiding her backwards and into their bedroom.

There must be a reason why all their fights ended in aggressive sex.

* * *

 **Response to reviews:  
**

 **RFRMovieFan** (Jan. 30) - Do you think this chapter brought the two timelines closer together? I bet this chapter made it easier to imagine the break up haha. But what you said was right: they were very much in love and their relationship was so strong, so I'll leave it up to you guys (and Aubrey and Jesse) to feel around for the cracks. Thanks so much for your reviews. :)

 **bilbobarneybobs** (Jan. 30) - I hope the flashbacks were easier to read this time. The flow is continuous within each timeline, unlike in Chapter One where the past skips a couple of months haha. I hope this chapter gives more insight into their relationships! Thanks for the review, and your PM about I Loved You First haha. :)

 **Guest** (Jan. 30) - Sorry about your heart attack, but thanks! Haha. If you're bummed about them not being together, how do you feel about Beca being with Ada?

 **Guest** (Jan. 31) - Thank you! Compliments about my writing always make my day. :) Sorry for keeping you waiting.

 **infatuatedlover** (Jan. 31) - Thank you! I hope the story and the relationships continue to keep you interested. :)

 **Psychic Guest** (Feb. 1) - While you're upset to see them slowly drift apart, I'm excited about finally getting to the divorce haha. Hope you learned a bit more about Ada (in present time, the past is still catching up). Ohh, I see. I hope you enjoyed the Jaubrey in this chapter, though I admit all they talked about was Bechloe haha. Thanks for your unwavering trust and support, despite the fact that I threatened to have your cat eat your burned corpse. :)


	6. Finding Your Sound

**A/N:** Happy 2018, everybody! I promised bechloe-bible-49 that I wouldn't abandon this story and, although I haven't, I also have no excuse for taking almost a year to update. To make up for it, here are approximately 13,000 words (1k for every month that's passed, plus another 1k interest?) to keep you busy.

* * *

 **Chapter Six:**

 **Finding Your Sound**

* * *

 **PRESENT - BECA'S APARTMENT, LA**

"Can I say one more thing that might ruin my chances of getting some tonight?"

Beca brushed stray strands of slightly damp hair from her forehead and propped herself up on her elbow. She looked at Ada suspiciously. "But you already got some. _More_ than some, I might add."

The German-American beauty lying beside her in bed shrugged. "Timing isn't my strong suit," she said with a sly smile. "But… this question is a bit more serious than the last."

Beca nodded to show that she was ready to hear it.

"Can you… can you try not to... could you maybe spend a little less time with—with Chloe? Just for a while...? Maybe?"

Ada looked increasingly guilty and apprehensive—expressions Beca had rarely seen her wear—as the words tumbled out of her mouth. But despite her potentially incendiary request, Ada did not elect to explain herself further until she could gauge Beca's initial reaction. She knew she shouldn't preemptively try to influence her girlfriend's answer; whether it was a yes or a no, the decision had to come from Beca's heart.

Beca, meanwhile, was struggling to come up with that initial reaction. In another lifetime—perhaps in the future, she hoped—she could have immediately answered, "Sure, no problem," and be happy about it. Beca _wanted_ to be willing to do anything to make Ada happy, but what came to her mind first upon hearing Ada's request wasn't automatic assent; it was a certain disappointed… group of friends.

Beca tried her best not to think about _which_ friend in particular would be most disappointed by it, but she couldn't stop Jesse's suddenly-relevant words echoing in her head:

 _She needs us,_ all _of us, now more than ever_.

"Listen," Ada began, when Beca's prolonged silence was reaction enough, "it's nothing personal with Chloe, okay? In fact, I have no problem telling the others that I asked. I'll make sure you're off the hook. I'll be the bad guy. I mean I _am_ the bad guy, technically—"

"You're not the bad guy," interjected Beca, finding her voice to come to her girlfriend's defense. "But, um, I want to be honest with you... I don't think this will sit well with the others. Aubrey especially…" (She could already hear echoes of Aubrey screeching, " _You choose_ now _to cut Chloe out of your life?!"_ over the phone.) "So how about I do it slowly? Or inconspicuously, I mean. Sort of _ease_ out of spending time with Chloe—and the others as well so that nobody suspects anything weird?"

"And, look, it's not like I expect you to completely cut—" Ada stopped in mid-sentence, only now realizing that Beca hadn't put up the fight she was expecting. "Wait… is that a—a yes?"

Beca paused once more before giving her affirmative nod. "I'm not totally dense, Ades. With what's been going on, I... If it bothers you that I spend too much time with Chloe, seriously, this is the _least_ I could do for you."

It was strange. Though she meant every word, Beca felt like they were coming out of someone else's mouth, or like she was having an out-of-body experience and watching a transient spirit speak through her physical form. The reality of what she was promising to do had not completely sunk in, and Beca knew that, which was why she had to agree before it did; to fool herself into thinking she had had no choice.

And to her credit, Ada knew it would be a big thing to ask of Beca (if she'd been dating any other woman, however, it would be completely reasonable to ask for space between her and her ex) but she wasn't doing it out of jealousy; she knew that it was for the best.

"I'm not asking you to cut them out of your life completely." Ada licked her lips in hesitance before continuing, "God, I don't know how to say this without sounding like the jealous rebound but... just get used to not seeing Chloe twenty-four seven, not knowing about every little thing she's up to. It'll get easier when the news wears off but since we're starting to have a direction in _our_ relationship, I think it's best that we learn to focus on ours first."

Beca looked up, ready to protest that she _was_ focused on their relationship but Ada read her mind and cut her off. "I know you are," she assured. "And you _have_ been really good the past couple of months but it's not hard to guess how you're feeling about Chloe moving on with her life. So instead of focusing on _her_ … focus on me. On _us_. It's self-preservation for the both of us, really," she finished with a shrug.

Beca relaxed back into the pillows and let out a small chuckle. It wasn't a humourous or pleasant chuckle; it was self-chastising. The way Ada put it made it sound so easy—and maybe it was. After all, hadn't Jesse just accused her of nurturing an unhealthy relationship with her ex? Maybe _she_ was the worst person on earth for making her girlfriend feel like a villain demanding an impossible task, when in reality it shouldn't have even been an issue.

"Okay."

"This will be good for all of us. Chloe included. You'll see. She's probably having some thoughts, too, and it's not like you'll stop being friends, it'll just—"

Beca playfully put a hand over Ada's mouth to stop her rambling. "Stop drilling, I already said okay."

Ada pulled Beca's hand down and kissed it nervously. "I just want to be sure this isn't going to create a rift between you and me. I mean, you're nothing special, really, but I do kinda love you, you know?"

Beca laughed. Genuinely this time. "I kinda love you, too. _Loser,_ " she added emphatically, to get back at Ada for her earlier dig.

* * *

 **MAY 2019 - BETWEEN LAX and BECA AND CHLOE'S APARTMENT, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA  
**

"Love you!"

" _Love you, too, weirdo. Sorry I couldn't be there to drop you off_."

"That's okay," said Chloe, moving her phone to the other side of her head and clamping it between her shoulder and ear while she accepted the cab driver's help in getting her suitcase out of the trunk. "You were in the middle of a musical brain blast—I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole."

" _Good thinking,_ " chuckled Beca. " _So I'll be seeing you Sunday?_ "

"Monday night," corrected Chloe, rushing through airport security to check on her flight details. "Couldn't get a flight out in time so Macy booked me a quick interview with—shit, eight forty-five?!—I'm almost late! I gotta go, Becs!"

"All right, b—" Beca brought the phone away from her ear to check the screen. "—ye." She sent Chloe a brief text wishing her a safe flight and got back to work.

After what felt like minutes but were, in reality, hours, Beca's phone started vibrating on her desk. She wouldn't have noticed it if not for the lull in the track she was currently working on. She searched for the source of the disturbance and saw, out of the corner of her eye, the image of a bearded man in aviators giving her the finger. It was Don.

"Hey," she greeted, putting him on speaker so she could continue working.

" _I got the sample you sent me_ ," Don said, forgoing a polite greeting, as usual. Beca held her breath in anticipation. " _I'm gonna go right ahead with the cliché and say that I like it, but I don't_ love _it_."

Beca let out the breath she was holding. She didn't expect her first try to be a home run, of course, so she was just glad it wasn't crap. She trusted Don to tell her when it was.

"What's wrong with it?"

" _There's nothing_ wrong _with it. Like I said, I like it, I just don't love it_ on you." Beca heard a crunch and the sound of chewing on the other end. It was a while before Don continued. " _It's too… upbeat and dance pop-y. Something I'd throw to AG or Little Mix, y'know what I mean? Also, I thought you were planning to explore house?_ "

"I thought you'd like this better," Beca said truthfully.

" _From you as a producer of someone else's music, sure. But you're an_ artist _now, B. You're_ my _artist. As your producer, I want to squeeze out nothing but pure gold from the inner workings of your brain._ "

"So… you want me to try something else?" Beca asked wearily, rubbing her hands on her face and then through her hair. The effects of being in front of her computer for hours were only now surfacing; her eyes were stinging with exhaustion and her hands were stiff from being in the same position for so long.

" _Hey, I'm not dissing your work, okay?_ " said Don, detecting the disappointment in Beca's voice. " _We're just gonna put a pin on this and look back at it for future albums. But, Beca, your debut has to sound different—way different from your artists' sounds. You're a well-known producer now so there are bigger expectations from you if you want to join the artists' circle._ "

"Great. More pressure. Just what I needed," muttered Beca.

" _I love your sense of humor, B. It's ninety percent of why I signed you._ " There was a pause. " _You know what? Be ready in fifteen, I'm swinging by to pick you up._ "

"What for?"

" _I think you're about due for a face-to-face consultation with your producer. I can't, in good conscience, let you finish your debut album in that stuffy apartment of yours._ "

Beca glanced at the clock. It was past midnight. "Hard pass, Don. It's late and I'm not in the mood to go to the studio. I've got nothing else prepared—"

" _We're not going to the studio, B. We are going out._ "

Before hanging up, Beca heard Don enthusiastically add, " _Dress appropriately!_ "

* * *

 **\- HALF AN HOUR LATER, OUTSIDE BECA'S APARTMENT  
**

Beca climbed into Don's Mercedes for the second time that night, after changing out of the respectable blouse and dress pants she'd been wearing and into a tank top and leather jacket.

"Now _that's_ more like it," said Don, revving the engine. "Maybe I ought to hire you a stylist—what the hell was with that last outfit? I said we were going to a party, not chaperoning a middle school dance."

"You threw me off with that 'dress appropriately' comment!" fumed Beca. She had never been asked, since coming to LA, to 'dress appropriately' so she had no idea what it entailed. "I thought we were meeting important people or something."

"I just meant get out of your sweatpants and do your hair up—or whatever it is you women do to look decent for us men." Beca rolled her eyes at him. Reaching over to access the glove compartment, Don added, "We're actually going incognito tonight so put on these on."

"Where are we going exactly?" asked Beca, putting on the beanie and sunglasses Don handed to her.

"Just some nightclubs and the like," Don replied distractedly, now fiddling with his car's entertainment system. "A-ha. Here we go... This sound familiar?"

Beca didn't have to check the screen for the title of the track that began playing on the speakers to know what it was—partly because it didn't have an actual title more associative than 'Mashup_04.13,' but mostly because it was one of her own mashups from way back when.

"Jesus, this is... _eight_ years old," said Beca, smiling fondly and bobbing her head to the beat. She could still remember laying the individual tracks over each other and the joyful skip her heart had made when they blended just the way she heard it in her head.

"I know," said Don, bobbing his head even more enthusiastically than she was. He was even drumming his hands on the steering wheel. "This is old school B-Mitch right here!"

Beca shook her head in amusement. "Old school is right. God, that brings back memories…" She cringed, "Awkward, teenage memories."

Don laughed and lowered the volume to a level where they could talk normally. "This is some really great stuff," he complimented. "Coming up with this at seventeen? It shows you naturally have a good ear."

Beca simply nodded her thanks, too engaged in her own music to give an audible response, but Don understood her need to reflect and they didn't speak again for the rest of the drive.

Unlike most artists who look back at their early work and spot mistakes or areas of improvement, Beca honestly couldn't find anything wrong with her old mixes. They were perfect in that they did exactly what she wanted them to do—whether it was pumping up the listener or trapping them in a labyrinthine musical journey with her sick beats.

They continued to listen to a playlist of Beca's best amateur mixes until they arrived at the club. Every bouncer in LA knew Don's face well even incognito, so it wasn't that difficult to get in last-minute despite the lineup outside. After being discreetly escorted through the general area, Beca found herself sitting on a luxurious curved sofa within the exclusive VIP area above the dance floor.

Beca barely touched the drink Don ordered for her, choosing instead to focus on the DJ's music. After a year working as a producer under Don, Beca had developed a more professional ear for talent and was flexing it by analyzing the quality of music currently playing.

In the midst of mentally critiquing the DJ's song choice, Beca felt her phone buzz in the pocket of her skinny jeans.

' _On my way to the hotel. Sleepy as hell. Traveling from LA to NY on 2 hours of sleep sucks. Hope I can get some without you beside me tonight!_ '

Beca grinned at her wife's message, typed out, ' _I sure hope NOT_ ,' and added in parentheses, " _Read that last sentence out loud, babe._ "

After a moment, Chloe responded. ' _Oops! LOL. You're still up! Wanna talk?_ '

Beca gave her surroundings a quick scan and confirmed that it would be impossible to have a decent conversation without yelling, so she replied, ' _Might not be the best idea. I'm stuck in a club right now. Don's fault._ '

Beca sent a selfie of herself making a displeased expression on the foreground, with the DJ and dance floor below as the background.

' _A club, huh? You better not be having too much fun without me, wifey,_ ' Chloe sent back with a lighthearted wink emoji.

' _Already not._ ' Beca attached another photo she kept on her phone of the infamous Grumpy Cat meme.

' _Good. Just arrived at the hotel. I'll catch up with you tomorrow._ ' Half a dozen kissing emojis followed by—' _for your grumpy pussy._ '

Beca let out a laugh and put her phone back in her pocket after sending an equally dirty goodnight text back to her wife. It was then that Don decided to approach.

"So what do you think of the DJ?" he asked, knowing Beca would have her answer ready by now.

"He _sounds_ good but only because he's derivative of some of the better artists of the past decade," Beca observed expertly. "I can hear traces of some originality, but not enough to get him signed."

Don patted his hands together in mock applause. "I see I've made a decent producer out of you already. But what I really meant was, what did you think of the DJ _himself_ —as a person?"

Beca frowned. "I don't know him."

"The DJ as an artist then."

"What do you mean? How am I supposed to know what he's like after hearing him for just two minutes?"

"How indeed?" Don said smugly.

Beca rolled her eyes. Don only pulled that face when he was in the middle of one of his 'teaching moments.' She looked back down at the DJ and this time used both her eyes and her ears to observe him: she made an effort to watch his drab movement, his repetitive style and self-conscious mannerisms…

"It's a trick question," Beca finally realized. She turned to face Don and away from the generic club fixture. "I don't know anything about him because he looks and acts like every DJ he'll probably claim is his inspiration. I don't know anything about him because his music is empty. It has no identity, no soul."

Don looked very impressed. "Those are better words than I would have used," he said, raising his glass. "And you're exactly right."

"So… you're telling me _my_ music has no soul?" accused Beca, catching on to why she was brought here.

"That's just it, I don't know yet," shrugged Don. "To be fair, I've heard only one sample, but I'm certain that what I heard there was not _you,_ not _your_ soul _._ What I heard was some combination of the artists you've been working with over the past year. To use your word, it was derivative. Ironically, it was derivative of _yourself_ , but still…"

Beca pursed her lips against the sting of Don's words.

"Nevertheless, it was _good_ ," reiterated Don. "I'm just not convinced it was reflective of you as an artist. Look, remember when we worked with Lorde last year? Remember how she sort of _changed_ the atmosphere in the booth whenever she made music?"

Beca nodded. It had been one of her earlier projects as a newly hired assistant producer, and she would never forget it. She had been intimidated by how experienced the young singer-songwriter was, going over the technical aspects of the recording with them as expertly as if they had asked a meteorologist about the weather, but also as casually as if they had asked a layman about it. But once Lorde had entered the booth, she was no longer a professional singer doing her job, but an _artist_ expressing, through a creative combination of sound and silence, some deep and universal truth about human life.

"That's because she has cultivated her own sound," Don elaborated. "Her music expresses her soul, and people hear _and feel_ it in every lyric and melody she lays down. That's what I'm trying to say, B. We're not just talking about making good music here, we're talking about making great _art_ from a great _artist_."

Beca leaned against the railings of the VIP balcony and sighed. "I get what you're saying, Don," she said, the familiar advice of 'finding your sound' and 'be different' ringing in her ears. It was funny how it seemed to be a problem wherever she went. "I'm just going to need some time to figure things out. I guess I never thought I'd forget what made me _me_... again," she added under her breath.

Don gave her an encouraging clap on the shoulder. "Hey, it was the price I expected to pay for hiring you as a producer first before making you an artist," he confessed. "Sometimes, working for others leaves you with no time for yourself. But don't worry, B, tonight is when things start turning around."

"How? By showing me what an _un_ successful artist sounds like?"

"He's not who we're here for," said Don, another smug look creeping on his face.

Beca turned back to the floor and finally noticed that the DJ she had just been dissing was now announcing the end of his set and introducing the next.

" _She_ is."

A young woman who looked to be in her late teens took over the booth and, after greeting the crowd enthusiastically, immediately began her set. Beca could tell that the DJ was improvising her first track to compensate for the transition; it was a lively and energetic follow-up to the previous set, and, despite being on a totally different level of talent, it flowed seamlessly.

The atmosphere in the club shifted from mindless dancing to some wild sense of unrepressed freedom and Beca found herself liking the new DJ's music a lot. She turned to Don to tell him so.

"I thought you would," he smirked. "Now, what do you think of _her_? What does her music say about who she is?"

Beca turned back to the DJ and closely watched _her_ movement, _her_ style and mannerisms—all of which seemed to blend together harmoniously and throb to the beat of her own music.

"She's fierce. She's definitely a fighter; someone who doesn't back down from a challenge," Beca said easily. "Her music feels like… like she's got something to prove."

"Exactly." Don held up a triumphant finger. "You can tell from her arrangement that she's going in the game guns blazing. She's not letting her one chance on stage at the most exclusive club in LA go to waste. She _has_ got something to prove, and you of all people know what that's like."

Beca gave Don a look that said she was listening.

"The girl who made those eight year-old mashups had something to prove, too: that she was good enough to make it in LA if she was given the chance," said Don, reciting some of the history he learned about Beca as he got to know her over the past year. "Things got side-tracked with college and that a cappella group, sure, but your music then still had a message... er, friendship and girl-power and all that."

Beca leveled him with a look. Don never passed up an opportunity to make fun of her time in competitive collegiate a cappella.

"But let me be clear: I'm not saying you should go _back_ to mashups and remixes, okay? No. I made you listen to your old tracks and I brought you here to check this girl out so that you can remember the part of yourself where that music _came_ from—the part that wanted itself _proven_ , because that part is what got you here. It's at the core of _who you are_. And that's the first step to making this album, Beca. Find out who _you_ are, then figure out what _you_ want to say—"

"Okay, okay!" Beca stopped Don before he got too riled up and attracted even more attention from the people around them with his impassioned lecture. "I get it, Don, no need to break out the motivational speech." She drained her glass and slammed it on the nearby glass table. "I think I know what I need to do now."

She made a move toward the stairs but Don suddenly blocked her way.

"Whoa, slow down!" he laughed. "I'm not saying you start right _now_. You don't have a deadline, Beca, your album is all about your creative process. Take a night off—hell, take a _month_ off! You've been in LA for over a year now and I bet you haven't even been around the hottest clubs in town." He motioned the waiter for another drink. "Come on, have a couple more drinks and I'll introduce you to some people."

"Thanks, but I think I need some peace and quiet first," said Beca, already picking out in her mind the flavor of Ben and Jerry's she was planning to indulge in bed later. "We can talk about re-starting my creative process when my head's a bit clearer."

Don looked like he wanted to argue but, in the end, he shrugged his assent. "If that's what you want. Here, take my car. I'll have someone pick it up at your place in the morning." He tossed her his keys and, as she headed for the stairs, yelled after her, "Ready yourself, B-Mitch! Soon we're gonna paint the town red! Or, in your case, blue and yellow!"

Beca looked back up at Don and gave him a sarcastic salute on her way out.

* * *

 **PRESENT DAY - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA  
**

Over the next several weeks, Beca felt she had done a pretty good job with "inconspicuously" lessening the amount of time she spent with Chloe and their closest friends. After one more gathering to celebrate Chloe's _actual_ pregnancy about three weeks after she announced her plans, the four had returned to focusing on their own lives and work.

Beca had been put in charge of one of the label's newest artists and given the specific task of refining her sound so that no one could ever guess that she was a thirty-eight year-old single mother. ("We don't want people to turn her away thinking this is their _parent's_ type of music—don't look at me like that, it wasn't _my_ idea!" her boss had defended.)

Jesse, on the other hand, was busy adapting to the drastic decrease in his leisure time after putting his freelance composing on hold in favor of a steady but high-stress job at a big movie studio. Luckily for him, this wasn't a challenge for Aubrey who, on top of renovating the newest branch of the Lodge of Fallen Leaves and serving as both realtor and interior decorator for their new apartment, coached her boyfriend on the discipline of working sixty to eighty hours a week.

Chloe, under the advisement of her doctor and pretty much everyone but her temporary douchebag publicist, delayed revealing her pregnancy to friends of the second degree and beyond until it was actually safe to announce it. It didn't take much convincing to keep mum; she preferred not to have something that intimate about her personal life being the subject of vapid daytime talk shows as a result of a careless Facebook post. In the meantime, she busied herself with finishing as many projects as she could before the symptoms kicked in.

And so, eventually, the frequency of the group's Friday-evening dinners changed from 'regular' to 'occasional,' and then from 'occasional' to 'rare' with no questions asked. Everyone was too busy to hang out and nobody would suspect that that was precisely what Beca wanted.

Beca's only worry going into her plan had been Chloe's inevitable need to talk baby stuff with the girls, which would put her in an uncomfortable position of having to choose between faking disinterest in babies (when everyone knew how interested she was when she was married to Chloe) or faking enthusiasm for Chloe's future child (which she still wasn't entirely sure she felt or not). Fortunately for Beca, Chloe's mom, through the technology of video calls, had been the recipient instead, serving as a lightning rod for all things pregnancy- and baby-related and leaving Beca in the clear.

As a result of these perfect situations falling into place, Beca and Ada had never been closer. When the model was not out of town working, she spent her nights at Beca's apartment, contributing to their daily routine of each being the first person the other saw waking in the morning, and the last to see before going to sleep. The Friday nights usually spent at the bar with their friends had become time they used to clean out Beca's apartment and rearrange the furniture. Although they hadn't officially moved in together yet, Beca could definitely see it happening in the future.

And Ada was not just right about _their_ chance to focus on their relationship. Even the trashy tabloids had stopped automatically putting an inset photo of Chloe as the "famous ex" whenever an article about the couple came out, or vice versa, and the paparazzi had finally stopped asking them about Chloe and whether she was driving a wedge between them. Nowadays, Ada and Beca were treated as their own capital-T Thing.

So, all in all, things were going pretty well for the brunette.

Beca smiled to herself as she made this assessment and she exited the elevator in a happy strut. Her smile widened when she saw her artist already inside the booth, listening intently as the engineer replayed her track. Beca absentmindedly threw her bag and jacket on the sofa against the back wall of the studio and was mortified when she heard a small yelp.

" _Dude!_ "

A teenaged girl with shoulder-length blonde hair glared up at her through round, horn-rimmed glasses—but her expression changed instantly when she saw who had hit her. The girl leapt up, sending Beca's things and the book she was reading all over the place.

"Oh, shit. Bec—Ms. Mitchell, sorry—!"

Beca was too busy trying to lock her eyes onto the girl's face to care about the mess. " _Riley_?" she gasped, unable to believe the profound coincidence that, after all these years, she would come face to face with—

"Uh, _no_." A brief confusion passed over the girl's features before she held her hand out sheepishly. "My name is Sam. I'm Sarah's daughter," she added, jerking her head toward the booth.

Beca, whose heart was still inexplicably racing, followed the girl's line of sight and watched as Sarah excused herself from the booth to introduce the two to each other.

"I see you've met my daughter," the taller woman said with a grin.

"Yeah," Beca said slowly, still not taking her eyes off the shockingly familiar-looking Sam. "When you said you had a baby girl, I was thinking…" She made a cradling motion with her arms.

The two blondes laughed. They seemed almost identical in their mirth. "Well, she _is_ my baby girl," Sarah said, smiling fondly at her daughter. "She's starting college in the fall but I still see her in diapers!"

Beca let out a soft chuckle when Sam rolled her eyes and returned to the sofa to continue reading. With her producer's blessing, Sarah returned to work and Beca took a seat beside the engineer to guide her through the recording.

After an hour of getting it to sound the "right" way (i.e., the way Beca's boss would approve of), Beca gave Sarah permission to freestyle, something she did with all her artists to get them to unwind after a long session. Beca observed Sarah for a few more minutes, and then sidled up to Sam for reasons she couldn't explain herself. The teenager looked up at Beca with her eyebrow raised warily, and Beca finally noticed how differently she actually looked from Riley.

"Whatcha reading?" she asked innocently, and then mentally smacked herself for asking such a lame question.

"Intro to Philosophy," answered Sam, holding the book up. "Getting a head start on my college classes."

That singular statement blew away any thoughts Beca might have had of bonding with Sam through shared interests. She suppressed a smirk and said, "So I'm guessing you're not into this whole music stuff like your mom?"

Sam merely shrugged. "Music is really her thing, not mine."

"Your mom has a great voice," said Beca, looking over at Sarah. "Kinda husky but mellow at the same time. It really connects to people emotionally—"

"Is that why you're having her sing love songs all the time?"

Beca turned back to frown at Sam, but the girl had returned to reading her book with a defiant air. Beca smiled. Maybe they did have something in common: passive-aggressive snark.

"You telling me how to do my job, Sam?" Beca said jokingly.

Sam gave another shrug. "I'm just saying. I mean, I'm not stupid, I know this is about the whole image thing. She's older than most of the singers out there, so she has to show that she can bring in the younger audience."

In lieu of answering in the affirmative, Beca defended uncomfortably, "Well, your mom seems to enjoy singing the songs she wrote."

"Of course she does. She _loves_ singing cheesy love songs," said Sam, rolling her eyes. "It's her way of pining for my dad."

"Isn't that a good thing? It lets out what's in her heart—"

"If you're thinking it's cathartic, it's not. It's _pathetic_ ," Sam cut in dryly, turning a page in her book lazily as though she'd practiced this speech in her head a million times before. "And my dad isn't dead, by the way, he just left when I was seven."

Beca winced. That was another thing they almost had in common. But even though Beca had a good relationship with her own father now, it wasn't something she could comfortably guarantee the teenager.

"You know," continued Sam, "my mom had always wanted to be a singer. When I got old enough not to need a babysitter, she would go on those singing competitions but she never got far enough. When she finally got her big break and I was so excited that _you_ were going to produce her debut single. I thought, here's someone who could turn my mom from a singer into an _artist_."

Beca felt a rush of indignation at Sam's implication. Beca could still do that—wait, she _was_ doing that! Wasn't she Beca-fucking-Mitchell, one of the hottest, and _still_ rising, music producers in LA, and whose own Grammy-nominated debut album was number _one_ on—?

Beca shook her head. She wasn't going to let a seventeen-year-old who wasn't even _interested_ in music make her feel insecure. "There's nothing wrong with going _with_ the grain if it's something you're good at," she argued seriously. "The emotions that come from her past experiences are just as good a source of art as doing something new and different."

Hearing Beca's 'adult' tone, Sam looked up from her book with a shocked and apologetic expression. "Oh, jeez. I'm sorry, Ms. Mitchell—"

"Dude, just call me Beca."

"—I didn't mean to insinuate that you were doing a bad job," said Sam. After a thoughtful pause she continued, "I guess my mom's singing is more personal to me than I thought. I just don't want her to keep digging into the past to find inspiration, you know? In my mom's mind, writing these types of songs validates my father leaving—like it was something that was _supposed_ to happen for her to be successful. And it shouldn't be that way. I want her to move forward with her life and make something of herself on her own terms, not my dad's."

Beca was once again left with nothing to say. What _could_ she say? Sam was right, obviously, but it wasn't like Beca was... wrong. Art was elusive in its subjectivity, and there could be more than _one_ truth, right?

Thankfully, a response wasn't necessary, as Sarah had just exited the booth and approached them. "Thanks for the free time, Beca," she said gratefully. "I couldn't have afforded to have that much fun singing unrestrainedly."

"It's all part of the process," smiled Beca. "I'll be sifting through that later to look for traces of gold… uh, you know what I mean." She chastised herself for using Don's cheesy metaphor.

Beca and Sarah talked a little more about the recording before they walked as a group toward the elevators. They scheduled their next session with Beca's secretary before parting ways.

"Good luck in college, Sam," Beca said in farewell to the girl. "Philosophy is, uh, an interesting subject... I'm guessing. Definitely don't cut it like I did. And," she made a conciliatory gesture, "I'll think about what you said."

Sarah tilted her head curiously at the two but Sam merely nodded in response and gave a small wave as the elevator doors separated them.

* * *

 **MAY 2019 - CHLOE'S HOTEL ROOM, NEW YORK CITY**

Chloe was dreaming. She knew she had to be, because it was physically impossible to be taking huge, twenty-yard leaps across an endless field of sunflowers. After each kick with her legs she soared higher and higher into the sky and so did her belief that continuing this frolic would ultimately send her flying through the air. At the height of her latest leap, there was a split second wherein she remained at the top longer than she expected to, and she suddenly became afraid she would never go down.

When her phone suddenly rang with a familiar tone, Chloe semi-consciously thought that the two-word message from her wife was part of that dream.

' _Miss you.'_

She relaxed as she felt her feet touch the ground. Out of habit and a vague feeling that she should, Chloe pressed the call icon.

" _Chloe?_ "

Hearing her wife's surprised but subtly dejected tone triggered a more awake response from Chloe. "Are you okay?" she croaked.

" _Hey_ , s _orry, Chlo,_ " whispered Beca, " _I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep—_ "

"Shh," hushed Chloe, her eyes still closed as she fumbled for the bedside lamp. "Just tell momma what's wrong, baby."

She heard Beca chuckle lightly on the other end. " _That imagery is just all kinds of wrong… So, um, yeah. Don didn't like what I gave him—_ "

"Don's an idiot," Chloe replied automatically.

" _Yeah, but… it's not like he said it wasn't good. He just said it didn't sound like_ me _. It sounded like a mix of the artists I've worked with before, which kind of makes sense._ "

"Well, yeah, 'cause you produced their music," said Chloe, hoping that her words, though slurred, came out as encouraging as she intended them to be. "You influenced _them_ , Becs, not the other way around."

" _I don't know… He still thinks I need to make my own sound, though."_ There was a pause on the other end and Chloe heard the unmistakable sound of a spoon falling softly to the bottom of an ice cream box. " _Ugh, I'm getting flashbacks of Sammy saying the same things…_ "

Chloe hummed, also feeling like she woke up from a dream and into a déjà vu. It was as if they had traveled back into the past, to roughly four years ago when Beca had crawled into bed looking like a wounded puppy after her boss essentially told her that she was unoriginal. "And you got through that road block, too, remember?"

" _Yeah, by getting Emily to work with me. Didn't really solve my creativity problem, did it?_ "

"Okay, so you had help, but you also got through it because the Bellas reminded you that you are _awesome_ , Becs. You have an unparalleled ear for music and rhythm and, no matter what any jerk says, you have the versatility of a more experienced producer."

Chloe could almost hear Beca smiling through the phone.

" _Thank you._ "

"You're welcome," Chloe said firmly. "And I really mean it. I'm not just saying it because you're my wife. Hell, I'll divorce you and say it just to prove how much I mean it. And then I'll marry you again, of course." Hearing Beca's laughter on the other end made her smile. "Did the dingus even suggest what to improve?"

" _He made me listen to my old mashups, does that count?_ "

"The ones we used for the Bellas?"

" _No, the ones before that. Like,_ way _back when I was in high school. And a couple from freshman year._ "

"Oh! Yeah, those were hot…" She frowned. "But Don doesn't expect you to do mashups again, does he?"

" _No, no. It's just the whole 'sound' of it in general. I didn't even realize it was that different, I always thought I was consistent with my music…_ "

Chloe rubbed her eyes to get rid of their dryness so she could concentrate on the conversation. She really wanted to help Beca but this seemed unlike any other self-confidence issue Beca had had in the past. During her internship at Residual Heat, Beca had progressed from mashups by bringing in Emily's original songwriting. This had opened up a new avenue for her to explore, resulting in the beginning of a period of really great music from the DJ-cum-producer. But now, Don was bringing _back_ the mashups and asking Beca to move away from the music she was used to producing, which was leaving them both confused as to what Beca should do now.

Chloe thought hard. If it was about finding her sound...

"Any chance this could be solved by a retreat?" she asked half-seriously with a yawn towards the end that Beca did not miss.

" _I'm being ridiculous. It's like four AM there. Go back to sleep, Chlo. I'll handle this—_ "

"If I let you handle this on your own I'll be coming home to a big mess in three days' time," Chloe cut in with a lighthearted tone.

" _I just_ _don't want you to worry about me when you've got your own stuff to focus on."_

"Beca, what did I say about this? I'm _allowed_ to fuss over my wife."

" _I know, but I think…_ " Chloe heard a shift in position. " _I don't think you fussing over me will be any help, you know?"_

Chloe felt a little hurt by the words, but she corrected her feelings quickly. She knew Beca didn't mean to be hurtful or condescending. It was true after all; nothing Chloe might say over the phone, or do from twenty-four hundred miles away, could change how Beca felt at that moment. She could only be there for her when, and if, she was needed.

"Okay," Chloe said softly. "Just get a good night's sleep, okay? I'll be with you soon. Call me if you need anything. _Anything_."

" _Thanks. I love you, Chlo._ "

"I love you, too, Becs. Good night."

* * *

 **PRESENT DAY - A SUPERMARKET IN DOWNTOWN LA**

Beca let out a cute little involuntary grunt as she reached up for the top shelf to get one of the bigger boxes of cereal, and her face flushed when she heard a giggle on her way back down to her cart. She spun on her heels, ready to give an impassioned speech about how supermarkets should design shelves for _all_ heights, but then she saw who had stung her pride. "Oh, good, it's just you," she sighed in relief.

"Well, that's always nice to hear," smiled Chloe. "A lot better than, 'Aw, fuck, not _you_ again.'"

Beca cocked her head dubiously. "Has anyone ever actually said that to you?"

"Well... no. I was just stating a fact."

Beca laughed. They smiled at each other for a beat before Beca realized that a proper greeting had yet to occur. "Wow—sorry. Hi!" She wobbled awkwardly around her cart and gave Chloe a hug.

"Hi!" Chloe squeezed her tightly. "Why do I feel like it's been so long since we've seen each other?"

Beca hid her guilty face by moving her cart around unnecessarily. "I know, right? It's been, what, two, three months? How have you been?" Her eyes instinctively glanced down at Chloe's stomach, which, through strategic styling, looked relatively flat.

"Just came from ADR, so I can finally cross that last movie off my list," Chloe replied with a tired sigh. "I have a taping on Thursday and then Vegas this weekend. And I've still got promos to do in the next couple of weeks... I'm just trying to get through them one day at a time."

"Shouldn't you be taking it easy, you know, for the baby?" Beca asked in concern.

"Oh, don't worry, she's getting her fair share of my time and attention," Chloe said, glaring down at her midsection. "The fatigue, the nausea—the _cravings!_ " She held up a bottle of laundry detergent from her basket and shook it in front of Beca's bewildered eyes. "And did I mention fatigue yet because, _god,_ I feel like I get fifty percent of the work done for twice the effort! Good thing she's not showing yet or else I'd be tired, nauseated, _and_ fat."

Beca tried her best not to look amused while giving Chloe a sympathetic pat on the arm; she seemed exhausted just getting that rant out. But Beca couldn't help her amusement at the gender-specific pronoun use.

"She?"

Chloe nodded. "I have a feeling she's a girl."

"Are you sure it's not just because you _prefer_ a girl?" smirked Beca, pushing her cart along as they proceeded to walk down the aisle together.

"Not at all," Chloe replied evasively, but she gave Beca a cheeky shrug that revealed her true feelings. "But enough about me! How have _you_ been? Why haven't I seen you in so long?"

Chloe was giving her a smile that was too knowing for Beca's liking. "Work," the producer replied automatically. "I've been put in charge of this new artist…"

"And?" Chloe urged when Beca had left her explanation hanging. "You've handled many new artists before."

"Yeah, but this is different. She's kind of a challenge." Beca hesitated to continue. She should have kept the conversation light and quick, but Chloe had a knack for drawing things out of her. She was Chloe, after all.

"Is there something you don't like about her?"

Beca shook her head. "No, she's perfect actually. It's just that… I met her daughter at the studio last week." She looked at Chloe and couldn't resist adding, "She looked a _lot_ like Riley."

Chloe's face brightened at the memory of her former student. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, and her name is Sam. She surprised me—well, more like I surprised _her_ when I threw my bag on the sofa and didn't realize she was on it."

Chloe shook her head and laughed. "That must have been a 'Dear Diary' moment for her. ' _Beca Mitchell threw her stuff at my face today—I'm never washing it again!_ '"

"Actually, she didn't seem all that impressed with me," Beca confessed with a wry smile.

"Why, what did she say?"

"That she didn't like the kind of music I was making her mom do," shrugged Beca, trying to make it seem as though the comment didn't bother her. "Even though I'm not forcing her—I mean, Sarah likes it and the execs are convinced it will sell. Everyone's happy."

"Except Sam," Chloe guessed.

"She didn't like that her mom was singing love songs."

"Hmm."

Beca parked her cart to the side and waited while Chloe scanned the supermarket's selection of pickles. She narrowed her eyes at the redhead suspiciously. "'Hmm' what?"

Chloe smiled back teasingly. "Becs, you're clearly feeling insecure about what Sam said. And if you're insecure, that means your gut is telling you she's somewhat right. Why doesn't she want her mom to sing love songs?"

"It's personal," said Beca, not wanting to betray her artist's daughter's confidence. "But it did bring up some thoughts I've been having lately about work..." She watched Chloe stack six jars of pickles in her basket and took it upon herself to remove half of them when Chloe wasn't looking. "How do I reconcile two things that I know are right? I mean, what we're doing is tried-and-tested and will definitely launch her career... But it relies on her digging into a past that might be better if she moved on from."

Chloe nodded solemnly. "But if she enjoys it, and it comes from her heart, why is it so wrong?"

"That's what _I_ said!" Beca threw her hands up, happy that Chloe saw it from her perspective. "But I don't know if that's the type of artist she has the potential to _be_ , you know? Am I just producing a singer, or am I producing an artist?"

Chloe stopped at the end of the canned aisle and gave Beca a look.

"What?" Beca said apprehensively; the look gave her the impression that Chloe knew something Beca didn't.

"It sounds like... this should be Sarah's decision," Chloe said carefully. "She should have a say what type of artist she should be, don't you think?"

Beca frowned in realization. "I guess I never asked…"

"And just because her source of inspiration is something in her past that you think she should move on from, that doesn't make the story any less important for her to tell—because for her that is _her_ art. And, just as well, if Sarah really _is_ holding herself back from seeing what her life is really about, and if she's serious about being an artist and not a singer, then you should help her find her true sound."

Chloe dumped her basket in Beca's cart and stretched her sore arm. "Either way, her future is something she should decide on her own. Talk to her. See what she thinks and just be there to make her dreams come true."

After a moment of thought, Beca shook her head, impressed. "You know, Chlo, you give the best advice."

Chloe shrugged modestly. "It's not my first time dealing with this kind of problem. You went through a similar thing years ago."

"Me?"

"Your debut album?" Chloe's raised eyebrow chastised Beca for forgetting. "When you were struggling to figure out _your_ sound, do you remember how that went?"

Beca looked away pointedly. "Um, no..."

* * *

 **MAY 2019 - BECA AND CHLOE'S APARTMENT, LA**

Beca had planned to spend the remainder of the weekend staying as far away from music as possible and, ironically, she called up Jesse, who composed music for a living, to help with that. He came over without question and set up the ultimate movie marathon venue in Beca's living room: oversized pillows on the floor, a cooler full of ice so they wouldn't have to leave for drinks, and two large pizzas on the way. He even brought blackout curtains so the room felt like their own private theater.

"Don't worry, I picked out movies that are heavy on the plot and not so much on the score," he said, unloading a can of whipped cream and a giant bag of Doritos from a paper bag. "So, obviously, no musicals."

"Just make sure I won't be bored out of my mind," said Beca, picking up and scrutinizing a jar of jalapenos.

"I promise. These are thought-provoking, emotionally connecting movies," he assured.

"All right. What's on first?"

"The Texas Chainsaw Massacre."

Beca rolled her eyes and joined her best friend on the sofa. As most of their movie marathons (formerly known as movie-cations, until Beca 'dropped out' in favour of spending more time with her then-girlfriend) went, Beca spent ninety percent of the time pointing out plot holes and saying things like "See, _that_ would never happen in real life," or "Of course _the girl_ gets the most gratuitous and pornographic death."

Four and a half movies, two boxes of pizza, and several bags of junk food later, something began to vibrate earnestly from somewhere beneath the layers of blankets on which they were lazily sprawled.

"Hey, I thought no phones," mumbled Jesse, drowsy from the food and the film's falling action.

"Mm… could be an emergency," Beca mumbled back, reaching around the cushions with much effort to get her phone. To her surprise, it was Don. "Mm-'ello?"

" _Look,_ _I know you said you wanted the weekend off but guess who's having a party tonight?_ "

"My toilet in about two minutes."

" _What?_ "

"Never mind. No thanks, Don, I've barely started my artistic hibernation," said Beca, nuzzling back into her pillow fort.

" _Come on, B, the party is low-key, I promise. I thought you might like to hang out with some cool people tonight."_

"I am with cool people. I'm with my best friend." Beca stuck her tongue out at Jesse when he gave her a flattered "Aww."

" _People in your line of work then."_

"Well, he's actually a… dude, what do you do exactly?" She buried the phone's mic into her shoulder and poked Jesse's rib with her foot. "You're, like, a wedding DJ, right?"

The Treblemaker glared at Beca and shot her with a marshmallow gun. "Freelance music composer! I've told you this a thousand times—"

"He's a composer, that's close enough," Beca said into her phone.

" _Even better! Bring him along!_ "

"We're not really ready for a party right now, Don," Beca said, just as the loose knot of her drawstring shorts finally gave way to her stuffed stomach.

Jesse frowned. "Party?"

" _Then go get ready and swing by anytime. We'll be in the downtown area until sunrise. Let me know and I'll text you the location, okay? It's just a low-key gathering of artists and producers_ — _you'll need to mingle with these people eventually. I promise, you won't regret coming."_

Beca hung up the phone and asked Jesse if he was up for a "low-key gathering of artists and producers." He hesitated because A, he had never been to one and, B, he wasn't sure if it would help Beca with her problem at the moment. She was supposed to be laying off music or anything that might influence her sound before she had time to figure it out.

"Don said it was just for me to mingle with people," shrugged Beca. "Maybe music won't be the focus."

"Well, do you wanna go?"

Beca glanced at the TV. "Well, I am kinda getting tired of movies," she admitted. "But I only want to go if you want to go. I've never been to one of these things either."

"Are you serious?" said Jesse, getting up from the floor by pulling himself onto the couch. "You've worked with some high-profile celebrities before, haven't they ever invited you?"

"A few times, but I never went," shrugged Beca. "I never got the appeal, especially when I had my own private party waiting for me at home," she couldn't resist adding with a wink.

Jesse groaned. "Do you _always_ have to bring up sex with Chloe? It really bugs me to know that you get more action than I do."

"It's not my fault you and your girlfriend live on opposite ends of the country. And what can I say? Chloe is more satisfying than any party. Not to mention the ego boost when she screams my name."

Jesse pretended to gag. "Jesus… But, hey, why don't you try asking her to go with you next time?"

"I already did. She's not really into them."

" _Chloe's_ not into the party scene?' scoffed Jesse. "Chloe 'Everybody-In-The-Pool' Beale is not into partying?"

Beca cocked her head and frowned thoughtfully. "You do have a point… I guess she's changed a lot since college. Or, I don't know, maybe it's an image thing. Some of those parties don't exactly leave you in a very flattering light and you know she's wants to be taken seriously as an actress."

Jesse shrugged in agreement. But now he was curious. "You know what? Let's go. I'd like to see for myself how crazy these parties can possibly get that even _Chloe_ wouldn't want to attend."

* * *

 **\- TWO HOURS LATER, DOWNTOWN LA  
**

"Okay, this was _not_ what I expected."

That was a repeated line throughout the the course of their supposedly low-key evening.

Beca and Jesse (led by Don and his entourage of mysteriously-employed industry professionals) had crashed through four different events, with each party getting wilder and blurrier than the last, before finally getting to the "gathering of artists and producers" Don had promised.

The first gig, at a fashion show afterparty, was mere _pregame_ compared to what would proceed. Beca had been reluctant to commit at first; being in a sea of beautiful giraffes eliminated any hopes of having fun at that party. But, as it turned out, the models only stuck around for the photoshoots; the club itself was filled more with socialites, fashion journalists, and creepy old businessmen than actual runway models. Regardless, that crowd knew how to party. More importantly, they knew which cocktails seduced first-time clubbers to experiment with more.

But before they could even warm up to the scene, Don had shepherded the two rookies to the next destination. They'd left at what Beca would later learn was a specific point in the party's lifetime: late enough that people could definitely recall that they were there, but early enough to miss its pinnacle. It was a power signal to everyone that they had better, and more exclusive, places to go.

The subsequent clubs and bars gifted Beca and Jesse with other memorable first-time experiences.

At some point in the night, Beca found herself dancing on a dimly-lit dance floor next to a spirited and fantastically dressed woman, only to discover that the smoky black 'dress' she was wearing was actually very intricate body paint. Beca had felt embarrassed and incredibly guilty for reaching out and touching the 'material,' as it must have come off as flirtatious, but Don assured her that the grinding she received after the mishap was "completely platonic."

Jesse, when not laughing at Beca's red-faced recap of her miscommunication troubles, was having his own.

Though she would never tell it to his face, Beca knew that even with his growing stubble and messy brown hair Jesse was, by most metrics, an attractive guy. But only after a spontaneous karaoke session during the party did she fully realize that her best friend's good looks, velvety voice, and smooth dance moves had a massive appeal to _everyone_.

Faithful as he was to Aubrey, Jesse told Beca it was a waste to turn away all the drinks that had been sent his way, and he (very unwisely) split them with her in plain view, which led to their being confronted by a rather large group of offended ladies and gentlemen; one half thinking Beca was his undeserving girlfriend while the other, his cockblocking hag.

Long story short: they had had to leave the club through an emergency exit.

The party following that was a drastic change of pace—though, truthfully, anything would seem slow when compared to a riot.

It was some VIPs-only, experimental, artsy club that played music so incomprehensible that even Beca couldn't pin it down—and the club's artisanal marijuana probably didn't help. Beca was not as friendly with the bud as her peers in the industry were (it had been drilled into every Bella's brain that smoking damaged the vocal cords), but with the introduction of various ways to ingest marijuana that didn't involve harming her voice, she found no reason not to accept.

The final party, which they finally dropped in on at half past three in the morning, was held at a celebrity's penthouse loft. The partygoers—who consisted of, as Don had promised, other artists and producers—were comfortable enough with the privacy, the chill atmosphere, and the blissed out company to indulge their graver personal vices.

It wasn't the first time Beca had witnessed hard drug use, and she was not altogether surprised by the veracity of the stories about LA's cocaine scene. Thankfully, no one had ever pushed her to try any, and she had never seen a violent episode arise from its use, so she had long since learned to look the other way when it came to her peers' less than savoury hobbies.

Immediately after they'd gotten through the doors, Don plopped Beca down beside a high-profile artist whom she desperately wanted to dislike after years of chastising Chloe for having his music on her iPod. But to her chagrin she discovered that he was very down-to-earth and genuinely charming—in a way that she knew he wasn't trying to be likeable, but he just naturally _was_. They talked about mundane (albeit rich-people, Beverly Hills-resident, Grammy-winning artist) things, ranging from the best music equipment they'd ever gotten for free, to which artist they'd love to collaborate with, and all the way to the juiciest gossip involving who was screwing—in almost every sense of the word—whom and behind whose back.

Beca's mind was hazy enough for the conversation to bypass the "check your privilege" firewall, so she allowed it to continue and eventually include others.

And then something amazing happened.

After being told about her a cappella history, a group of producers at the table scoured YouTube for clips of any old Barden Bellas performance and started egging Beca on to show them what a cappella singing was like in real-time. She refused to add more names to the list of people in the industry who teased her about it but, in his desire to impress people several pay grades above his, Jesse eagerly told them about the Riff-off.

"Basically, you're given a topic, like, for example, 'Famous Duets.' So it starts with one song that fits the category, then every other team has to match the beat and the relative key, but most importantly the _last word_ of the lyric—"

"Show us!"

"Well, we need a category—"

Don scanned the room with a mad glint in his eye. "How about… Grammy winners? I'm willing to bet everyone in this room has a golden gramophone with his or her name engraved on it, or is at least one phone call away from someone who does."

Beca resisted the urge to look around them and check if that was true. They hadn't done the rounds of introductions like they had earlier that evening, so she wasn't fully aware of the guestlist at this party. She had left her self-conscious inhibitions long ago and, when their marijuana-induced myopia kicked in, she had even stopped labeling the people around them as _celebrities_. Now wasn't the time to start again, not when she needed to blow everyone's minds with a riff-off demonstration.

The former three-time a cappella champion turned to the Treble with a "You up for this?" look and, as always, Jesse was game. She gave him her song choice—primed by an earlier mention of the artist and by her recent conversation with one of the highest paid musicians in the world—and the pitch. Jesse gave her a thumbs up in reply.

Seeing his artist warming up her vocals, Don clapped his hands together and the entire floor went quiet with attention.

It was a mark of their friendship and combined fourteen years of a cappella experience that Beca fully trusted Jesse, despite never having riffed together, to back her up with the rhythmic beat:

" _I've never seen a diamond in the flesh_

 _I cut my teeth on wedding rings in the movies_

 _And I'm not proud of my address_

 _In the torn up town_

 _No postcode envy_

 _But every song's like_ —"

A professional beatboxer observing them from the sides had caught the flow and joined them towards the end of the verse. He then tapped Jesse on the shoulder, gesturing that he had them covered. This allowed Jesse to add backing vocals to Beca's rap.

"— _gold teeth, Grey Goose, trippin' in the bathroom_

 _Bloodstains, ball gowns, trashin' the hotel room_

 _We don't care, we're driving Cadillacs in our dreams_

 _But everybody's like Cristal, Maybach, diamonds on your timepiece_

 _Jet planes, islands, tigers on a gold leash_

 _We don't care, we aren't caught up in your love affair_ —"

Recognizing that the song needed a soprano to round out the arrangement, a producer from Island Records stepped up from the crowd and lent her voice as well.

"— _And we'll never be royals_

 _(Royals)_

 _It don't run in our blood_

 _(Dat-da-raaa...)_

 _That kind of lux just ain't for us_

 _(Dat-da-raaa...)_

 _We crave a different kind of buzz_

 _Let me be your ruler_

 _(Ruler)_

 _You can call me Queen B_ —"

Beca's cheeky smirk earned her a round of hoots and cheers.

"— _And baby I'll rule_

 _(I'll rule, I'll rule, I'll rule)_

 _Let me live that fantasy."_

Out of the corner of her eye, Beca saw Don quickly ask Jesse a question, to which he replied with a nod. He must have asked about the rules because, as Beca ooh-ed:

" _We're bigger than we ever dreamed, and I'm in love with being queen_

 _Ooh, ooh, o_ —"

"— _ohhh every time I close my eyes,"_ Don sang with a wide grin. His entourage behind him smirked proudly and supplied the instrumentals. " _I see my name in shining lights..._ "

Beca raised an amused eyebrow. Don was a beat off and Bruno Mars was only a featured credit on the song, but she'd give it to him; it was his first riff off and, above anything, he had cleverly managed to match the theme.

" _Yeah, a different city every night, oh right,_

 _I swear the world better prepare_

 _For when I'm a billionaire!"_

One of the members of Don's entourage whom Beca assumed was his hype man proved his worth by rapping an improvised version of Travie McCoy's. Beca was impressed, but her focus was split; the rest of the musicians in the crowd had begun to group up and plan their entry into the riff off. Seeing this sparked her competitive spirit; she was excited to show the merits of a cappella singing and put an end to the teasing.

" _Oh-ooh, oh-ooh, for when I'm a billionaire_

 _Oh-ooh, oh-ooh, for when I'm a billionaire_

 _I wanna be a billionaire so_ —"

"— _so baby pull me closer in the backseat of your Rover,"_ cut in one of the hottest recording artists in the past year,

 _"That I know you can't afford_

 _Bite that tattoo on your shoulder_

 _Pull the sheets right off the corner_

 _Of the mattress that you stole_

 _From your roommate back in Boulder_

 _We ain't ever getting older_ —"

Beca smiled as these chart-topping artists put a spin on The Chainsmoker's ' _Closer_ ' to keep it in the relative key and was surprised by their ability to quickly pick up on harmonies and back-up beats. She assumed only producers knew how.

" _I know it breaks your heart_

 _Moved to the city in a broke down car and_

 _Four years, no calls_

 _Now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar_

 _And I-I-I-I-I can't stop_

 _No, I-I-I-I-I_ —"

"— _I keep on fallin' in… and out of love… with you…"_ The divas in the corner pushed their way into the circle and wasted no time baring their souls and enchanting the crowd with their immaculate vocals as they belted:

" _Sometimes I love ya_

 _Sometimes you make me blue_

 _Sometimes I feel good_

 _At times I feel used_

 _Lovin' you darlin'_

 _Makes me so confused..."_

The slowed pace seemed to pull the entire loft's focus to the circle of people. Similar to all the Riff-offs Beca had participated in throughout the years, the air was tight with a competitive energy that allowed them to not only bring out the best of their inborn talents, but also appreciate those of others.

" _I keep on fallin'_

 _In and out of love with you_

 _I never loved someone_

 _The way that I love you_

 _Oh, baby_ —"

Beca watched the other groups struggle to match a lyric to Alicia Keys's signature song. Don had nearly gotten one but, to his dismay, the hard-core rockers had gotten to the center first:

"— _baby, I have no story to be told_

 _But I've heard one on you_

 _And I'm gonna make your head burn_

 _Think of me in the depths of your despair_

 _Make a home down there_

 _As mine sure won't be shared"_

There was another scuffle in the crowd. _Rolling in the Deep_ —even without the rock-and-roll flavour—was such a powerhouse of a song to cut into, and the verses were too tricky to match.

" _(You're gonna wish you never had met me)_

 _The scars of your love remind me of us_

 _(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)_

 _They keep me thinking that we almost had it all_

 _(You're gonna wish you never had met me)_

 _The scars of your love, they leave me breathless_

 _(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)_

 _I can't help feeling,_

 _We could have had it all_

 _(You're gonna wish you never had met me)_

 _Rolling in the deep_

 _(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)_

 _You had my heart inside of your hand_

 _(You're gonna wish you never had met me)_

 _And you played it, to the beat_

 _(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)"_

But the people in this party didn't get to where they were by lacking talent. The next beat had already begun.

" _We c_ —"

"— _we push and pull like a magnet do_

 _Although my heart is falling too_

 _I'm in love with your body_

 _And last night you were in my room_

 _And now my bedsheets smell like you_

 _Every day discovering something brand new_

 _I'm in love with your body_

 _Oh—I—oh—I—oh—I—oh—I,_

 _I'm in love with your body_

 _Oh—I—oh—I—oh—I—oh—I,_

 _I'm in love with your body_

 _Oh—I—oh—I—oh—I—oh—I,_

 _I'm in love with your body_

 _Every day discovering something brand new_

 _I'm in love with the shape of you._ "

The artist Beca had been chatting with earlier rapped the verse with the confidence and suave she had mistaken in him as arrogance. She now could see that it was simply skill, talent, and genuine enthusiasm. The way he sang captivated the audience and it added to, not diminished, his performance; he was an artist sharing his soul. Everyone was loving it.

Jesse looked at her and shrugged in defeat. "Oh-for-five. You'll get 'em next time," he said encouragingly.

But Beca wasn't giving up. It was ridiculous that every single Riff-off ended with her losing; and it was especially unacceptable tonight, to lose at the thing she was _known_ to be good at, against the people whom she, since she could remember, aspired to work with as a music producer.

Don came over from his side of the circle, arms folded, and stood beside Beca as they continued to watch. "Come on now, B. You can think of something, can't you?"

" _Girl, you know I want your love_

 _Your love was handmade for somebody like me_

 _Come on now, follow my lead_

 _I may be crazy, don't mind me_

 _Say, boy, let's not talk too much_

 _Grab on my waist and put that body on me_

 _Come on now, follow my lead_

 _Come, come on now..."_

"Now, Beca…?"

Beca looked up at Don, a slight frown forming between her brows.

 _Come on now… now..._

Beca wondered if Don already knew what to do and was just teasing her with it. He _had_ played her the track only the day before but... how could he have known?

The next verse was quickly coming to an end so instead of wasting time deciphering her producer's annoying look, Beca swiftly told Jesse her song choice and pulled the beatboxer to the side to make a request.

She needed the next song to go exactly as she had mixed it.

" _Come on now, follow my lead_

 _Come, come on n—"_

"— _N-now th-that that don't kill me,"_ she sang, strutting to the centre, _  
_

 _"Can only make me stronger_

 _I need you to hurry up now_

 _'Cause I can't wait much longer_

 _I know I got to be right now_

 _'Cause I can't get much wronger_

 _Man I've been waiting all night now_

 _That's how long I been on ya_

 _(Work it harder, make it better, do it faster, makes us stronger)_

 _I need you right now_

 _(More than ever, hour after hour)_

 _I need you right now."_

The beatboxers robotic vocals were a gift from heaven—and Beca's rendition of Kanye West's rap was the unexpected but marvelous bow on top.

" _Let's get lost tonight_

 _You could be my black Kate Moss tonight_

 _Play secretary, I'm the boss tonight_

 _And you don't give a fuck what they all say, right?_

 _Awesome, the Christian in Christian Dior_

 _Damn, they don't make em like this anymore_

 _I ask, cause I'm not sure:_

 _Do anybody make real shit anymore?—"_

The fact that such fierce yet articulate emotions came from such a tiny and innocuous twenty-five year-old was not lost on the people at that party. At that moment, every knew; Beca was something special.

"— _Bow in the presence of greatness_

 _'Cause right now thou hast forsaken us_

 _You should be honored by my lateness_

 _That I would even show up to this fake shit_

 _So go ahead, go nuts, go apeshit_

 _Specially on my Pastel, on my Bape shit_

 _Act like you can't tell who made this_

 _New Gospel homey, take six and take this, haters!"_

The crowd erupted into cheers at Beca's exit; after her final word, she retreated impressively from the centre and let Jesse and their new beatboxing friend take over the chorus. As expected, the rest of the partygoers joined in as well.

" _N-now th-that that don't kill me_

 _Can only make me stronger_

 _I need you to hurry up now_

 _'Cause I can't wait much longer—"_

Don sidled up to Beca wearing the smuggest of smirks. The party's DJ (just a guy with a laptop and a few mixing equipment; they weren't in a club after all) had put on the very track that Beca had mixed years ago that, as she claimed, "improved" on West's already well-regarded mix.

Beca had no doubt that Don was responsible for the DJ getting a copy of it.

The hype in which she left the entire loft after the Riff-off seemed unbreakable. Here and there, people were jumping wildly up and down to Beca's mixes blasting through the speakers. She was driving them crazy.

Don gestured triumphantly around them. "See that?" he said. "That'll be the world's reaction to classic Beca Mitchell."

Before she could respond to, or question, his chosen descriptor, Beca had a shot of tequila shoved with congratulatory enthusiasm into her hand by the beatboxer. She would have declined, but a part of her—an echo of her juvenile aspirations—was thrilled simply by the gesture of invitation.

In hindsight Beca would reflect on how tonight's experience was a lot similar to her first ever riff off nearly a decade ago in that abandoned pool at Barden's campus. The highlight of both nights was the feeling of overwhelming support from her peers, only this time she was certain that _everyone_ was categorically over the moon by her performance. And the people she impressed this time weren't just any music or a cappella aficionados—they were _professionals_ in the music and entertainment industry.

The celebrating and partying that ensued were, to Beca, resounding cries of affirmation from a community to which she had, until that night, felt like an outsider. It almost seemed ritualistic when hours later she would end up vomiting into a coiffed Beverly Hills bush as the sun rose behind her; it was all part of her creative process.

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 **Response to Reviews:** (Sorry for the delay!)

 **RJRMovieFan** (Feb. 23) - Yep! It's going to be a challenge bringing them back together in a meaningful and realistic way, but it's a challenge I'm excited to undertake! There will definitely be angst; I sort of agree with Aubrey in the previous chapter saying that they need to hurt first in order to start healing.

 **bilbobarneybobs** (Feb. 24) - I'd say I'm relieved to hear that but I just changed the formatting again D: I hope this new one reads just as well!

 **Psychic Guest** (Feb. 24) - Haha! That (Staubrey) is precisely what I'm worried about. I've had some Stacie scenes written already but I will be reevaluating them. Well, now you find out Ada's role in the BeChloe dynamic!—but try not to see it as her _only_ role. I don't want her to fit the "home-wrecker" trope. Thanks so much! I love hearing from my psychic guest.

 **bechloe-bible-49** (Aug. 31, 2016 and Aug. 24, 2017) - Your persistence has been rewarded, my friend! I hope I can continue to entertain you. Cheers!

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 **A/N:** I am no musical genius so I implore you to use your imagination and make the Riff-off scene work haha. A lot of this chapter was actually already written down and just needed polishing so the release of Pitch Perfect 3 didn't have so much an effect on it but, moving forward, I believe I will incorporate some newly canonized facts into the plot. Also, let me know if the past/present formatting is legible; I believe I'll be obssessing over it until the last chapter is published.


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